Dark Despair
by Valtira
Summary: Darkness rises from the depths of hell to hunt the hunters. Dean is captured by an elder Demon and grievously injured. Can Sam and John find him without falling into the demons trap themselves?
1. Chapter 1 Evil Consumes

**Dark Despair**

**By**

**Valtira**

**Disclaimer**: I have no claim to the TV Series - Supernatural, Sam, Dean or John Winchester. I have put Dean on my dance card though, a waltz would be lovely. 

**Authors Note: This is a sequel to Soul Survivors, but it is also a complete story in and of itself. **

**Darkness rises from the depths of hell to hunt the hunters. Dean is captured by an elder Demon and grievously injured. Can Sam and John find him without falling into the demons trap themselves?**

**Please Review, tell me what you think.**

**Chapter 1 Evil consumes**

They were college boys, drinking, joking, and preparing for a fraternity initiation, seniors playing a prank on the new freshman. There in the depths of the fraternity house they prepared. The book they held was old, the pages yellowed and cracking, a book of power. It was a game, only a game.

A pentagram drawn in salt on the concrete floor held a circle in its center. Symbols of power filled the pentagram. A hundred candles littered the floor flickering wickedly they barely pierced the dark abyss.

Three young men waited, dressed in white. Floor length robes covered their bodies, the fraternity symbols painted across the front. Not in red paint as they suspected, but blood stained the pristine color of the robes, Chicken's blood, the first sacrifice to a god of the underworld. It was a game, only a game.

It was nearing midnight when the first initiate stood in the center of the circle. Four voices chanted in unison. Each word brought a new sound, a new rumble from the basement around them. It made them all shiver.

A fifth senior hidden in the walls played a dangerous game. He pulled a string and watched as blood poured from the ceiling covering the new initiate. Smoke and fog circled the room, a new addition to the script, his eyes widened in surprise. It was a game, only a game.

One, two then the third initiate stepped into the circle. The rumbling grew louder, the basement floor shuddered. The third ritual began. He was young barely eighteen, he stood straight and tall well over six feet, his shoulders were broad, his hair blonde with eyes of sapphire. He suppressed his amusement, knowing it was a game, only a game.

His name was Gabriel. Blindfolded he was led into the room. They placed him in the circle a booted foot scraped at the salt breaking the line. Already the chant had begun, when the blindfold was pulled from his eyes. He blinked several time, clearing the fog from his eyes. The room flickered in the unnatural breeze. He stared down at his feet, hissing in surprise sucking in a breath. Fear coursed through his veins. Symbols of power lay at his feet. He tried to move, tried to run but it was already too late. The dark lord had risen. It was no longer a game.

_Anath csentar wilmet se'teth_

_Fae lee kovar_

_Coh fomar dar queva_

_Belathauzer_

_(Let Darkness walk the earth_

_We command thee_

_Come forth and conquer_

_Balthazar)_

They called his name, his symbol glowed brightly. Ebony tendrils spiked up through the floor coiling around the young boy's legs. Gabriel forgot for a moment the words his mother had taught him, fear made him remember, but it was too late.

The words were spoken, thrice they were chanted and thrice they called to the underworld, hailing his name.

He awoke from a dreamless sleep and stood to listen. He did not have to heed their call; he was too strong for that. This was no dark sorcerer who called him. No bon would be granted, it was a game, only a game. A game they could not win.

Of late his minions sent to corrupt and defile had themselves been destroyed, not banished back to the underworld, but destroyed. His anger had grown, his desire for revenge thrived in his black heart. He would answer their call.

Fire and darkness were his dominion. A dark cloud sped through the fiery shadows straight for the crack forming in the dusky clouds above. He had not taken human form in a millennia. It was time for rebirth.

The chant ended, blood poured from the ceiling raining down over the white robed figure. It filled the circle at his feet and began to boil. Ebony tendrils held him fast; he struggled but could not free himself. A scream of despair escaped him, his ankles burned where the black tendrils touched.

Four faces looked up in fear.

Gabriel fought for his existence, words of power his mother had taught him rolled off his tongue, but the black demon was too strong. He could not stop himself from breathing in the noxious fumes as they surrounded him. The dark lord soon gained dominion. The boy's consciousness fled in horror as the monster flowed inside him. Running fast, running far he hid himself away in the darkest recesses of his own mind. He would survive; the demon would enjoy the torture.

Belathauzer's essence broke through the barrier and took possession. His image impressed itself on the boy's. Two heads molded into one. Black scales grew lighter, taking on the tan of the boy's skin. The only difference was the sapphire eyes, now black and fathomless. Not a flicker of light reflected in their dark depths.

He fit himself neatly into Gabriel's body. Muscles rippled beneath the skin, he stretched catlike enjoying the freedom the body gave him. The demon roared in triumph fire spewed from his mouth up into the rafters. The dry brittle wood caught quickly. The game had only just begun.

Behind the walls the fifth student was caught in the surging fire. A fiery blast of heat and flames consumed him. The boy didn't utter a sound.

The Dark Demon reached out testing the wards set in place to hold him. He laughed! With a flick of his wrist he wrote his own symbol in the air breathing the word of command. The wards shattered, and the Dark Lord stepped into the basement.

Four young men scrambled from their places on the floor, they ran stumbling over each other in their fear. Fire closed in around them cutting off their escape.

Belathauzer reached out his hand closed around the neck of the senior closest to him. Flinging his captive backward he sent him spinning into the flames. The stench of burning flesh filled the room, his screams echoed in the small space filling the others with mind numbing terror.

With a flick of his hand the Dark Lord send two more flying into the flames. The last white robed figure fell cowering to the concrete floor. Babbling incoherent words spilled from his mouth. Belathauzer stepped forward. The Dark Lord's form shifted reforming into a black mist that wrapped itself around his last victim.

Belathauzer consumed him. His eyes – windows to the soul were plucked from his head. The demon sucked the life from the body, tearing the soul apart he threw it back to hell as the fire roared around him. The black mist disappeared, solidified; Belathauzer stood clutching the withered body in his hand a satisfied smile on his face.

With the body still clutched in his hand, the Dark Lord burst through the wall and up into the chaos he had created. He smiled! The Fraternity house was in an uproar, hell fire had spread to the upper floors, voices screamed in the night. Fifteen students would die, not a single fraternity brother would leave the house alive.

The Dark Lord strode into the night. The withered body was lifted into the air. Black tendrils twisted around the withered ankles and crept upward to hang the body from the highest branches of the nearest tree. The body hung upside down, withered arms stretched outward at shoulder length. A dark hand reached up.

He walked into the night, sucking in a deep breath he reveled in the freedom1. He sent his mind out, searching, hunting for his minions. Only a few answered his call, the darkest and strongest were gone. Belathauzer's anger simmered in his black heart. His army would be rebuilt, his enemies would pay.


	2. Chapter 2 Into the Flames

**Disclaimer: Don't own them - wish I did**

**Authors Note: This is a work in progress, I hope you like it. Second chapter is short, but this is the piece that ties it to the Soul Survivors. **

**Chapter 2 Into the flame**

Fury washed through the tiny creature. It didn't care how many lives it destroyed, didn't care about the minds it corrupted. It only cared about feeding. Draining the life from its victims and stealing their souls. It was obsessive in its desire for revenge.

The hunters were strong, their life forces bright and alive. The Fairy wanted to change that - needed to feel that power surging through his body. Corrupting their souls before devouring them would please him. It would not be easy, because of their strength a plan would have to be devised. Luring one or maybe both into a clever trap before the torment began.

Wings flitted angrily as the creature flew through the dark shadows of the forest. Night had fallen, a dark moonless night, a night of despair for many. Hunger drove it from the forest this night – the creature needed to feed.

He flew through the night; farther than he had wanted.

The alleyway was dark – a lone figure stood within surveying his handiwork. Through the darkened window the black cloaked figure could see his latest victims. They hung upside down, their bodies burned then shredded by the ghouls. Gaping holes where the eyes should have been stared out at the world, it was a gruesome picture.

They thought they could beat him, send him back to hell, they were wrong. He laughed maliciously.

A darkly flickering light hovered above the alley. Rage flowed from the dark figure like water over a dam, fast and furious. The soul shrieker shivered in delight. This was the one; he would be the greatest puppet the fairy had ever encountered.

He knew not what he had discovered!

Dropping low the fairy quickly changed his appearance, green skin took on a golden glow, amber tresses fell is silky waves over his shoulders. Chocolate colored eyes glowed with mischief. He moved into place in front of his quarry and waited for the dark eyes to swing his way.

A flicker passed through the dark eyes, his hand snapped up capturing the fairy in a fierce grip. Wings were held tight, the Soul Shrieker could not move. Fear flickered in the amber eyes. He had to get away, leave as fast as he could. Silken wings fluttered to no avail.

"What are you little bug," the silky voice whispered? The fairy trembled; there was power in that voice.

Dark hands snapped up capturing the soul shrieker's wings, one in his left one in his right. He waited. "Shall I tear them off," Harsh laughter filled the air. The Dark Lords eyes snapped to meet the Soul Shrieker's.

It was the fairy who was caught, he screamed in terror. His mind gave up its secrets the Dark Lord's lips curled malevolently. Blue black fire swirled in the dead eyes as he tore the shrieker's memories from his mind. The fairy had no dominion over him, he was the puppet now, dancing to a tune not his own.

The demon hissed in surprise at what he found. Beneath his breath he whistled a dark tune, capturing the fairies mind twisting it. Malicious laughter erupted from his throat. "Yes little bug, we will take care of the hunters." He knew of them, they were the greatest hunters alive but that would change, he would see to it personally. They held a power he had only dreamed of possessing. And he would have it!

I hope you like the story so far, please R & R tell me what you think. I have the ending worked out in my head - I'm still working on the middle. Hugs!


	3. Chapter 3 Taking control

**Chapter 3 Taking Control**

So far the brothers had spent four weeks in the little town of Fremont. The quiet little town was filled with grateful people who had put them on a pedestal. He hated it! Dean had wanted desperately to unass the AO and beat feet out of town. His injuries had prevented their flight.

Sam on the other hand seemed content. He had turned into a - _gag me with a spoon'_- "Social butterfly." Dean snarled at himself, yet who was he to complain if Sam was happy for a change. They both knew it wasn't going to last.

Sam was enjoying himself and maybe – just maybe Dean was a little jealous.

Regardless, "It was time to go. Time to move on - get out of Dodge, anything," Dean grumbled but sit here and swat flies. A loud thwack split the air as he swung the fly swatter again. A little black spot appeared on the floor.

He slipped out the back door of the little house doing his best to avoid humanity. Sam had fussed for weeks, until Dean had been ready to terminate him with extreme prejudice. His brother meant well, but Dean had had enough. His ribs were still a little sore. The pounding in his head had disappeared a week ago. Stitches and bandages had come out, what was left – nothing, he grumbled again. Well almost nothing.

During his convalescence Dean had spent time reading up on the little creature they had encountered. A Soul Shrieker, it was a nasty little bugger, stealing souls and wrecking havoc wherever they went. One thing still bothered him, the Soul Shrieker had disappeared without a trace.

Soul Shriekers were powerful creatures, but their power was in the manipulation of others. It needed a human, a puppet on a string to assist in its deadly quest. It stole people's souls. Andrew had been that puppet but now he was gone. Dean knew the Shrieker wouldn't stop just because one puppet was dead. It would find another and another after that, unless Sam Dean could stop it. The one thing he hadn't learned was how to destroy it. 'That could be a problem,' he mussed silently.

He didn't think the creature would let them off easily. He and Sam had foiled its plan and stolen five souls back. One thing he had learned was that they were vindictive little creatures and it would seek revenge. It would return, Dean didn't know when, but he was certain it wouldn't be long. Should they stay and protect the town or would the little creature follow?

Finding himself a rock to sit on he slid to the ground careful of his sore ribs and contemplated life as he knew it. He was a hunter, that's all he'd ever wanted to be. He didn't think of it as an obsession, but in his heart he knew it was. It's all he knew how to do. His father had raised him, trained him to be a hunter. He wondered sometimes if a little of the darkness hadn't crept in. That thought alone drove him to hunt. He was obsessed with fighting the darkness that had claimed his mother. The demon that had taken her was only a small fish in a very large pond. Darkness invaded every aspect of life, but he was not like them. Not now, not ever – he vowed.

Dean had smiled broadly to think that Sam had finally broken out of his shell. Jessica wouldn't have wanted him to waste the rest of his life pining for her. Dean thought his little brother had been spending his time cavorting about town with the little waitress. Sam had let him.

How would Dean react if he really knew - Sam had to wonder? He had heard the word freak too often.

He ground his teeth in frustration. It was harder than Sam had ever imagined. Control was something he just couldn't seem to master. They always made it look so easy on TV, bending spoons, holding back mutant machines with one hand for cripes sakes. How the hell was he supposed to master something he couldn't see, feel or touch? It was all in his mind and he just couldn't seem to find the path to his "talent" or what ever the hell they wanted to call it.

Was he a freak after all?

His brother was certainly a jerk! Dean was restless and Sam knew what that meant. Time to move on, he wasn't ready.

After this last encounter with the Soul Shrieker Sam had also done a lot of thinking as he sat at his brother's bedside. They had managed to thwart another dark creatures evil design and bring the light back into the little town of Fremont, Indiana. He needed more, wanted to learn about his supposed gift. He had dialed the number three times before working up the courage to actually hit the send button.

It rang only once before the familiar voice picked up, "Hello Sam."

Sam wondered if she had Caller ID or if she just knew it was him on the phone? "Missouri," he stated calmly. He felt far from calm. Her voice was welcoming and it made him want to cry. Running his left hand through his hair he sighed.

"I know Sam, I know, you're afraid."

"I don't know what to do," he breathed.

"Its ok, baby boy," Missouri whispered. "I've been waiting for you. You're here now. Missouri will put things right."

"I don't know what to do," he breathed again.

"You have to learn to control it baby before it controls you. It's not too late."

"I know a woman," Missouri told him. "Her name is Vivien Boudreaux. Find her baby let her teach you."

Sam copied down the address. "Thanks Missouri," Sam whispered.

"Your talent is a gift baby, don't let that chuckle headed brother tell you otherwise."

Sam chuckled taking a deep breath and relaxing for the first time since he'd picked up the phone. "I know you're right Missouri. You'd think with everything we've seen and done that it would be easy to accept."

"Accept it you must, but it won't be easy Sam. Embrace it, it's what you are. Don't let anyone take it away from you."

Sam sat on the edge of his bed staring at the phone in his hand. Learn to control it. 'It,' he snarled. 'It' is what they all wanted, possibly the reason his mother had died. Why Dad and Dean hunted. "Well Sammy boy," he murmured. "It's about time you took your life back and became a real part of the team. Not just something to be coddled and protected. Embrace 'It'," he mumbled!

Vivian Boudreaux was a tiny frail woman in her late sixties. Her body was rail thin, and she walked leaning heavily on a carved wooden cane. She had seen more in her lifetime than was good for any soul, more than would fill a series of books or movies. Like Missouri and the hunters she had battled the darkness almost all of her life.

Hers was a story very similar to John Winchester. A beautiful baby daughter had been taken from her. A husband killed while trying to save her. Vivian vowed she would hunt the creature. She had and nearly died in the process, but she had prevailed, but her daughter was found. Yet she had been consumed by the darkness that had stolen her away. No longer the sweet baby daughter Vivian had borne. She had fought long and hard to save her daughter but in the end Vivian had only once choice. Her baby girl had died at her hands.

It was a scar that would not heal. She had waited praying for Deth to take her but he never came. Now she waited, waited for a dream that was almost a nightmare.

Opening the door to Sam, Vivian sucked in a deep breath. This was her dream. The face, the eyes that stared down at her was a part of her. Her dreams stood facing her

Sam stood his ground as she stepped forward.

He only half believe he had a gift.

The Impala had made several detours on the way here. He'd talked himself in and out of the trip at least four times on the way over. In the end he stood on her porch wondering if he'd gone mad.

Her eyes never left his. The silver gaze was filled with hope and longing. A tiny hand, wrinkled with age came up resting lightly against his chest over his heart. Fire burned brightly in her eyes. This man-child was her final gift.

Closing her eyes Vivian opened her mind. Power radiated from him, uncontrolled, untapped power. He was more powerful even than her daughter had been. It was no wonder the darkness hounded him.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you ma'am," Sam asked quickly.

Missouri was supposed to have warned her, but from the surprised look on the older woman's face Sam new his sudden appearance had surprised her.

"I've been waiting for you," she whispered "Waiting a very long time."

Now it was Sam's turn to be surprised and just a little bit confused. He blinked his lips twisting into a wiry smile. He didn't question her. "I'm here…"

She didn't let him finish, but finished for him. "You are here to learn young man, and I am here to teach you. Come in!" She led him through the brightly colored house to a room high above the street and beneath the rafters. It was warm and welcoming and Sam immediately felt at ease. There was a large mural painted on the walls. A lush green meadow filled with spring flowers and fluttering butterflies surrounded him. The sky was filled with birds, fluffy white clouds and the bright glow of the sun. In the background he could see horses, cattle, sheep and goats grazing. A blue green pond fed by a quietly rushing stream shimmered in the bright daylight. Sam blinked and then blinked again. The mural was alive, it was moving and he could hear birds chirping and cows mooing in the distance. He cocked his head to the side listening, watching in awe. "It's beautiful," he whispered.

Vivian watched him as he spun in a circle to look at the painting. She sighed, seeing signs of the darkness that surrounded him. He had seen too much already, he was young to have endures so much. She also knew it wasn't over for him, there would be more death and more destruction in his young life before it was finally over. It was close, she could feel it.

"Remember it," Vivian whispered. "There will be times when you need a place to rest or even hide from the outside world. This," she whispered fiercely, "Will be that place."

Sam would remember the beautiful meadow; the quiet serene setting was forever etched in his mind. He would need it sooner than anyone expected.


	4. Chapter 4 Not so hard not so easy

**Chapter 4 Not so hard, not so easy**

Vivian was a tyrant; she bullied and harassed him into believing his gift was real. He had tested her patience as she tested his resolve. It had been four weeks of grueling, mind breaking work.

She didn't waste time, first teaching him how to protect himself. "Sit and close your eyes," she murmured quietly. "Build a wall, high and wide," she instructed. Giving him a few seconds to complete the task Vivian closed her eyes. Her gift was not nearly as strong as his, but Vivian launched a mental dart into Sam's mind. The wall shattered.

Sam hissed in pain and fell back as the dart, only a bright ball of light exploded in his mind. He winced pressing both hands to his forehead. The pain didn't last long but it was a precursor of what was to come.

"You didn't hold your defenses," she scolded him. "Hold the wall up, secure it somehow. Lock it, bolt it, I don't care how, but you have to keep it in place."

"Ready," she whispered.

Closing his eyes he built the wall again wrapping it around him and doing his best to anchor it. Sam nodded and mumbled in the affirmative.

Vivian fired the mental dart again. It was harder to penetrate this time. The wall held, longer and stronger, but again it fell and Sam rubbed at his temples a second time.

Vivian growled at him, "Think Sam." She wasn't going to give him the answer; it was something he needed to learn for himself. "What can you do to protect yourself?"

Sam mumbled beneath his breath. "Think," he whispered to himself. Yes, he'd learned something new with each attack, but avoiding or repelling the attack was what he needed to do. He couldn't stay on the defensive. He had to plan an attack of his own. Sam growled in frustration. His head was pounding, but he was finally beginning to see what he was doing wrong.

He took a deep breath waiting. A window opened in his mind, he saw the dart coming. A puff of air escaped his chest as the dart hit his shields. He pushed, hard and fast he sent the dart flying back the way it came.

Vivian had erected her shields but she hadn't been truly prepared for the attack. A cry of pain escaped her.

Sam's eyes flew open, the attack faded before the dart could do any real damage. He saw tears streaking down Vivian's face but it wasn't pain he saw reflected in her eyes it was joy.

"Wonderful," she cried with a sharp clap of her hands, "Absolutely wonderful. You are everything I dreamed you could be."

"But you must never, never let down your guard," she warned him. "She retaliated immediately catching him off guard his shields down."

Sam groaned as a fireball of light exploded in his head. He raised his shields a second too late.

"You must be prepared at all times."

Long hours and pounding headaches later, Sam grinned foolishly. He'd done it - bent the spoon! Ok, bent was too simple a word, flattened it like a pancake would be a better description. It was silly to feel so elated, it was only a spoon and he had felt his control slipping, hence the flattening.

Vivian was near bursting with pride at his accomplishment. "You learn quickly grasshopper, but do not loose control," she warned. "Next time you bring your own spoons," she laughed.

Sam was happy, finally understanding what lay inside him. It would be a long haul mastering the power that lay inside him, but he could do it now. He wasn't afraid! He just needed time, and time was something he was quickly running out of. Dean was healing and would not be restrained for long. Soon the doctor would give him a clean bill of health and they would be back on the road. He had to convince Dean to stay.

oooOOOooo

Vivian knew their time together was short. She smiled fondly as she watched him concentrate on moving another of her flattened spoons across the table. His progress had been slow and sometimes tedious but he worked hard.

Sucking in a deep breath both hands went to her chest. A sharp sliver of pain coursed through her. It was time to go!

Vivian sat quietly waiting until Sam looked up a wide smile on his face.

"I am proud of you," she whispered.

Sam saw the pain in her eyes and rushed across the room to kneel beside her. Something was wrong. "Vivian," he whispered?

Her right hand came up to caress his cheek. "I have given you the tools Sam, now you must hone them, sharpen them. Never forget who you are. What you are lies in here," she whispered, placing her left hand over his heart. "Don't let anyone tell you different; don't let anyone take that away from you. They will try dear boy, but you must resist."

"Vivian," Sam whispered again.

"I'm fine dear boy, just a little tired."

She stood at the door watching him go, her hand coming up to wave goodbye. Saddened by the thought she sighed knowing it was the last time she would see him face to face. Deth had come for her at last.

Sam arrived early the next morning only to find an ambulance outside the house. "Vivian," he nearly shouted running the last few steps into the house.

An older woman stood in the center of the room tears streaking down her face. "Miss Kate," Sam asked gently. He'd met Kate weeks ago; she was Vivian's housekeeper and companion. She was Irish and when she was emotional it was more difficult to understand her, but he knew in an instant Vivian was gone.

"Oh Master Samuel, she's gone," her voice was filled with sorrow.

Sam reached out and squeezed her hands.

"I found her this morning in her bed. She died in her sleep; the angels came for her in the night." Kate's voice was choked with sorrow, each word spoken with a heart wrenching cry.

"She's with her family now. Finally she can rest," Kate whispered.

He was shocked to say the least. Sorrow shook him. He stood watching, his arm around Kate's shoulders as the Coroner took Vivian's body away. He felt lost, she had been there for him, helped him see what he could not see by himself. It was too soon his mind cried, I'm not ready.

"Be true to yourself," a voice whispered in his mind. "You are ready Sam."

"Safe journey Vivian," he whispered into the wind.


	5. Chapter 5 Darkness comes

**Ok, sorry it took so long to get to the heart of the story. Hope the build up was worth it. Please R & R - tell me what you really think. **

I"m having trouble with the middle part so I'm going to run out of postable chapters in a couple of days - but I'm working as fast as I can - if you can come up with a good middle let me know.

**Chapter 5 Darkness waits**

Sam drove the Impala through the busy streets, his thoughts still wrapped around Vivian's passing. She had been waiting a long time for Deth to take her. She had told him so, but her death was still a shock to a lonely young man.

He didn't want to face Dean, didn't want his brother to see him cry. His brother wouldn't understand. Sam underestimated his brother.

Dean heard the Impala pull in, surprised that Sam was home so early. He usually didn't show up back at the house until after three. It was hard to see his face, but Dean could easily read his brother's body language. Something had happened. Dean shot to his feet wincing when his sore ribs protested.

Walking away from the house into the back yard Sam plopped himself down into the rickety swing hanging from the big oak behind the house.

Dean saw him now his body hunched over one foot rocking the swing the other dragging in the sand his eyes staring off into the distance. Sadness was written in his brother's eyes and it wrenched at Dean's heart to see him so.

Treading softly Dean came up beside him putting his hand around his brother's neck and squeezing his fingers gently. "Hey Sammy, you ok, what's going on?"

Sam sighed. What to say – his throat was choked up, he wasn't sure he could say anything at the moment. He didn't want to hurt Dean, but he just didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment.

"Nothing," he growled.

"Nothing - sure doesn't look like nothing," Dean replied softly.

"Just leave me alone Dean, ok, I don't want to talk about it," Sam replied gruffly.

"Sure little brother," Dean snarled, his hackles rising.

Beneath his breath out of his brother's earshot Dean grumbled and swore softly. He knew his brother was hurting, he would let it go for now, but sooner or later he would get the truth from Sammy boy. It was the things they failed to say to each other that usually got them in trouble. Stopping on the porch Dean watched his brother for a few more minutes before going into the house. 'Talk to me Sammy, I need to know what's going on in your head,' he whispered to himself.

Taking a deep breath Dean left his brother to seek a shower. Little Miss Beth was coming over in a couple of hours. He wasn't sure how he truly felt about her. She was a wild child beneath the sheets, but Dean had also discovered a few other things. She was moodier than Sam, clingy as a vine and possessive as hell. She had to know they weren't going to stick around? Time to break up; he just hoped he wasn't going to break her heart.

oooOOOooo

A cool breeze blew through the forest but Sam didn't feel it, his shields were up and firmly in place. Wrapped up in misery he hid himself away. His mind was closed to the darkness that whispered on the wind. The darkness passed over him unaware that the ones he sought was so close.

oooOOOooo

The Impala was clean and shiny and Dean was humming beneath his breath. It was after six and Beth was waiting on the porch as he pulled into the driveway. Grabbing her purse she skipped down the walkway and into the car before Dean had time to even step out.

"Hey sweetie," she whispered before wrapping her arms around him and planting a mushy kiss on his lips.

"Hey Beth, you look good," he answered. Wincing slightly when she looked down at her skin tight dress whispering, "This ole thing." The sleeveless halter dress barely covered her butt when she sat down. Dean knew if she stood up and bent over everything would be revealed. She didn't bother to wear undies. That little fact still had the power to get a rise out of him. Sliding across the seat she snuggled close plastering her body next to his. "I've got a big night planned for us pumpkin," she murmured.

She was a cop for petesakes; she wasn't supposed to call anyone 'pumpkin'. Dean groaned. Her big night would include dinner at the bowling alley, usually burgers and fries, then the disco to shake her booty to the bad music. At least the burgers were good, thick and juicy smothered with onions and pepper jack cheese. Sam would have hated it.

Thinking of Sam, Dean's mind wandered back to the house and their last confrontation that evening. Sam had been lounging on his bed staring at the ceiling. His right hand had been wrapped convulsively around a spoon. He had only caught a glimpse of it, but the spoon looked like it had been badly mangled. Shaking his head he stepped into the room saying, "You ok?"

"I'm fine," Sam uttered, the words were bland and emotionless, giving away none of the sadness that haunted his soul.

"Fine," Dean muttered. "I'm headed over to pick up Beth. When I get back we need to talk."

Sam didn't answer, just continued to stare at the ceiling.

"We need to leave Sam, its time to get back on the road and find Dad."

"Whatever," Sam answered.

Dean started in surprise his eyes narrowing in confusion. That wasn't the answer he had been expecting. He stood there mouth agape wondering what to say next.

"Just go Dean," Sam growled. "I need to be alone."

"Fine," Dean muttered. "I'm gone."

oooOOOooo

"Fine," Dean muttered out loud as he stared at his burger.

"What's fine," Beth asked?

Dean's head jerked up. Lost in thought he'd forgotten for a moment where he was. Pointing to the burger, Dean covered his lapse. "This is a damn fine burger," he replied smiling widely.

Beth laughed. It was one of her best features, Dean thought lightly. It was soft, lyrical and infectious.

"Come on, finish up and let's go bowl a few," she cajoled.

Dean rolled his eyes. Bowling was ok, he was pretty good at it, but his ribs ached at the thought. "How about I just watch," he told her.

"Oh Dean," she pouted, "Its no fun without you."

Dean eventually relented. He even had fun, though he knew he'd pay for it later. Two hours later they made their way down the street to the one disco bar in Fremont. It was an old warehouse just off Main Street.

The night was dark and moonless. Even the streetlight seemed dimmer than usual. The streets were quiet, either it was later than he'd thought or Friday night in Fremont was going to be a total drag.

He didn't see the softly flickering light as it followed them down the street. The Soul Shrieker had his orders. Lure the hunter into a trap. He had watched, waiting for an opportunity, but the hunter was already headed in the right direction. The silence was eerie. Against his will Dean shivered, something wasn't right. Seconds later an alarm shrieked shattering the silence.

In an instant Beth turned from playboy bunny to professional hardened cop. Her hand dug into the small purse over her shoulder and pulled out a snub nosed .38. "It's the bank," she growled taking off down the street. Dean followed close on her heels, growling at her with each step. The Glock stashed in the small of his back was quickly pulled out and brought up to the ready.

"Beth, wait for backup," he shouted at her, but his word went unheeded as Beth charged forward. Dean swore softly as he raced to catch her.

As suddenly as it had erupted the alarm was silenced. Dean swore softly when Beth slid close to the wall and quickly peered around the corner.

Darkness descended on a black cloud, surrounding them. Dean's chest grew tight, his breath caught in his throat. Every glimmer of light was extinguished. He could feel hands reaching for him. Large calloused hands grabbed his arms. Sharp claws bit into his arms, tearing through his shirt into the muscle. He hissed and bit back a sharp cry of pain. He pushed it away fear for Beth uppermost in his mind.

"Beth run," he yelled. He heard her scream of terror.

Dean dropped low chopping at the hands that held him. Wherever they touched he could feel his skin begin to burn and blister through the thick material of his shirt. Rolling right he kicked out and heard a grunt of pain as his booted foot connected. A rush of adrenalin coursed through his veins when he heard Beth scream. Leaping to his feet he swung blindly. He landed blow after blow, he fought like a man possessed but it wasn't enough. For each punch he landed, two were returned. His lungs were on fire, he could barely breathe in the thick black cloud. He didn't know how long he fought, but his strength was draining away.

Long bony fingers wrapped around his neck and he gasped for air prying at them. The black grip was relentlessly squeezing cutting off his air.

"I want them alive," a gravely voice growled angrily.

Around him hands stopped pummeling at his aching, bruised body. The long fingers around his neck eased their grip. Burning pain surrounded him, dragging him down. He could feel something wrapping around his body. He couldn't move his arms or legs. Held tight he fell backwards onto the concrete sidewalk.

The dark cloud lifted, only the dim glow of the streetlight blanked the alley. For the first time Dean could see their attackers. Dark shapes hovered around him. Tall and gangly their bodies were reed thin, with barely any flesh holding their bones together. Their skin was grey their eyes dark and lifeless. Gray tattered rags hung in shreds from their gaunt figures. His eyes widened in horror when a black figure stepped forward and stared down at him.

This was fear embodied. The figure was tall and dark his features hidden beneath the hood of his cloak. The dark head swiveled around. Two faces stared at the hunter, seconds later Dean wondered if he had imagined it as the two became one. The grin that slashed across the monster's face was evil and malicious. He held himself upright, supremely confident.

Long fingers reached out to caress Dean's cheek, he could feel the power stirring inside his captive, but something was missing. It was there he could feel it, but how was he to attain it?

"The hunter has become the prey," the dark voice whispered.


	6. Chapter 6 Dark Despair

**Chapter 6 Dark Despair**

Pulsing power emanated from the creature and for the first time Dean caught sight of the Soul Shrieker riding the dark creatures shoulder. The creature looked terrified. Dean shuddered at the thought.

He turned his head searching for Beth. Terror filled his heart when he saw her bloodied body laying only a few feet away. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His last thought was of Sam. Pleading with him, "Run Sam, run as far and as fast as you can."

oooOOOooo

Sam had fallen into a fitful sleep. Something troubled his dreams, he shivered convulsively. He shot to his feet all signs of sleep falling away.

"Dean," he whispered on the wind.

Dean was falling, a black abyss had opened beneath him and darkness was closing in. He heard his brothers call and struggled back to consciousness. "Run Sam, run as far and as fast as you can," he heard Dean whispered.

Closing his eyes Sam traced the mental path back to his brother. "Dean," he whispered in his brother mind.

Dean couldn't stop to think about how he was communication with his brother. "No Sam," he denied. "It's too strong, you have to get away, find Dad."

Anger grew and Sam's demand was stronger this time, compelling his brother to open his eyes and show him what was happening. Dean's shields were strong, but he had no defense against his brother.

The Demon screamed in pain and dropped his captive. A bright pulsing light now surrounded Dean. Power bright and strong flowed through the hunter. The demon leaned into it craving it. Reaching out his hand connected sliding through the bright flow of power. The demon jerked back a strangled cry of pain harsh and ugly escaped him. His hand shook and he looked down at his fingers. They were bright white, covered in ice. He growled deep in his throat. Fury filled his black heart. He would find a way.

Dean swore but couldn't stop Sam's compulsion. He opened his eyes and looked around. "I'm going to kick your butt little brother," the hunter growled.

"If you think you can take me big brother come and get me," Sam replied.

A jolt of something he couldn't explain hit Sam. He could feel Dean's struggle to stay conscious, feel the pain wracking his brother's body. Fear rose up inside him, he was loosing control and Dean was slipping away.

Taking a deep breath, Sam focused his mind on his brother. He got a hazy glimpse of the black cloaked figures and the gray figures huddled close by. What he couldn't see through Dean's eyes, he saw in his brother's mind. He also saw his brothers fear, but it wasn't for himself. Dean turned his head and for the first time Sam caught a glimpse of Beth lying on the sidewalk.

The black figure turned sharply to stare at Dean, his face a dark mask, his eyes unreadable beneath the hooded cloak.

"What do you hide hunter, I can see it, feel it inside you." The dark figure raged. He winced in pain, forcing himself to look at Dean. He could taste it, power and suppressed energy flowed through his captive. "I will have it," the demon ground out.

Thedark hand twisted,an invisible string pulling Dean to his feet. He shook the hunter like a rag doll. Bones snapped and muscles stretched, Dean groaned beneath the onslaught. He would not look into the dark demon's eyes. He would not give up his brother, never betray him – never. Determined to protect his brother, his last thought before darkness closed in was sent hard and fast hoping his brother would listen. "Go Sam, find Dad."

The dark figure raged and with a flick of his hand he threw Dean backward. He had tried to penetrate his captive's thoughts; even the tiny creature sitting on his shoulder had been unable to pierce the wall Sam had helped erect - reinforcing Dean's natural shields.

Dean could not protect himself. He fell hard and skittered across the rough concrete. Agony shattered his hold on consciousness. The aura surrounding the injured hunter fell away as he dived into the dark abyss.

A few miles away the young hunter collapsed, Sam fell hard but it didn't stop the rage coursing through him. His fist flew out punching at the nearest the thing he could reach. The closet door cracked and split. He didn't feel the pain or notice his bloody knuckles he only knew he had to find Dean.

oooOOOooo

The dark creature screamed his rage, windows shattered, the sidewalks cracked under the onslaught. Fire flew from his open maw. Creatures of the night caught in the powerful surge screeched in agony. They were mindless creatures doing their dark lords bidding, but even they cringed away from him. His tirades usually meant death and destruction for any and all within reach.

His name was Belathauzer. The humans chose to call him Balthazar. It was rare that the dark lord was thwarted in his desires. Drawing back into himself, he slowly regained control. A twisted smile crackled across his lips. Walking the short distance to Dean's unconscious body, he reached down and tentatively lifted the hunter into the air. When his fingers didn't burn he knew what had to be done. There was another. One without the other was useless.

A dark hand traced some symbols in the air in front of him opening a passageway to another place. The doorway crackled open, its surface a swirling rainbow of black energy.

"Bring her," he rasped before stepping into the swirling darkness.

His dark minions swirled around the unconscious body of Beth. Gnarled hands reached for her, lifting her up. The twisted creatures lurched toward the ebony gate. They slid easily through the dark energy back into the shadows of hell.

oooOOOooo

TBC I hope you liked it. Please R & R let me know how I'm doing. I don't have a beta, wish I did.


	7. Chapter 7 Gathering of forces

**Chapter 7 Gathering of Forces**

A tear slipped down his cheek. He felt helpless, lost without Dean beside him. Rising slowly to his feet Sam closed his eyes. Desperately seeking to open a link to his brother he dove down the path in his mind where Dean should have been. Fear shot through him, mind numbing, gut wrenching fear. Nothing, the place where Dean should have been was now a deep, impenetrable void.

Ignoring the pouding in his head Sam ran from the house into the dark, quiet streets of Fremont until he reached the center of town. Siren's were blaring; he could hear the frightened cries of the town's occupants as they slowly drifted into the street. Evil had come to Fremont once again.

He stood in the center of the road where Dean should have been. "Where are you big brother," he whispered beneath his breath.

Dean didn't answer.

Closing his eyes Sam opened his mind like Vivian had taught him. He could feel the dark presence, the corruption that had stood here. The vile psychic stench was almost overwhelming. He stepped back and pushed the nausea away - hunting, searching for any sign of his brother. His control was slipping but Sam sucked in a breath and steadied himself. Reaching farther out with his mind he caught a slight vibration in the air a few feet away. A rip or some type of tear in the air gave him some idea of why Dean wasn't here. He saw what remained of a fiery outline - a symbol and filed it away.

The dark presence had opened some type of portal. Sam, very much a novice didn't know whether the demon had gone to another plane, back into hell or just ten miles down the road.

He needed to know?

Smart enough to realize he couldn't do it on his own, Sam dug his phone from his pocket and pressed a couple of buttons.

The phone went immediately to voice mail and Sam took a deep breath before talking. "Dad, Dean's in trouble, he's been taken by a Demon. I don't know how to find him." He wanted to say so much more, but knew his dad wouldn't understand. John Winchester didn't do emotions, except for anger, at least none that he ever seemed to show to his youngest son.

Sam was miserable. He didn't know where to start looking for Dean. He had only the vague images in his mind. Images of the black cloaked figure were still fresh, a shiver coursed down his back.

Sam paced the street furiously. 'Call me, call me,' he mumbled over and over, waiting and hoping his father would call.

Mike was busy calming the towns' residents and checking on the damage. No one wanted to ask the question. No one really wanted to know how the sidewalk and buildings had been torn apart or why a dank, putrid odor hung in the air. They saw the blood spilled on the side walk and gave it a wide berth.

A little blue purse stood alone, abandoned on the sidewalk. The sheriff had posted guards making sure the scene wasn't disturbed before the forensics's expert arrived. He didn't know what he would tell the guy. Was it murder, a kidnapping, or a supernatural event? Mike knew, Sam and the whole town knew but how could they explain it to an outsider.

From his position on the sidewalk he watched Sam pace. His brother was missing, vanished into thin air, who wouldn't be worried, especially since the brother was still recovering from some serious injuries. Mike didn't know what to say or how to help the young man. His own deputy was missing; he didn't know what the hell he was going to tell the Mayor and city council.

Like the rest of the town he was scared. Something sinister had come and stolen some of their own and he didn't know where to start.

Striding across the street Mike slowly approached the still pacing hunter. "Were do we start looking," Mike asked quietly? "How do we find out what took them?"

He stopped abruptly - startled. Sam was pissed with himself for getting so lost in thought he hadn't heard the sheriff approach.

"I know what took them Sheriff," Sam answered. Brown eyes met blue and held.

"You know," Mike growled. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I wasn't," Sam answered quietly, "Cause you don't really want to know, it will only make things worse."

"Worse, what the hell could be worse," the sheriff huffed.

"Hell," Sam answered.

"What are you talking about," Mike growled again.

"The creature that took them is a demon – straight out of hell. Is that what you want to hear sheriff?" Sam was afraid and he covered his fear with anger. "A card carrying, fire breathing, dark evil demon and from what I can gather it's old, very, very old and powerful. More powerful than anything we've encountered before.

The air flew from the sheriff's lungs, his eyes went wide with fear, but the thought that stuck in his mind was that Sam had 'encountered' a demon before.

"A demon," Mike breathed. He stared off into the distance his voice low but filled with uncertainty as he spoke. "You read about them in book, watch them on TV and in the movies, but you don't believe." His hands were held in tight fists and pounded against his thighs as he tried to digest more of the nightmare that had come to his town. "You don't believe," he breathed quietly. He stood staring at the destruction hardening his mind and thoughts he turned back to Sam, his eyes implacable and unyielding. "What else do you know?"

Sam took in a deep breath and gathered his scattered thoughts. He need to think, needed to focus. "He's probably trying to build an army. Most of the creatures he finds will be the undead. Ghosts, ghouls, zombies, maybe even some of the weaker vampires will heed his call. He'll also steal human souls and convert what's left to his cause. He'll open a hole into this plane and more of his kind will cross over."

"Jesus, stop," Mike screeched. "I don't want to hear any more."

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, nothing he could say would comfort the sheriff or make the reality of what was happening any easier to handle. "I won't lie to you Mike. Everything I've said is true – a demon had crossed over into our world. He had my brother and your deputy. At the moment they are still alive, but I don't know for how much longer."

"What are we going to do," Mike wanted someone to tell him what to do, how to deal with the chaos that had come to shake up his world, his town?

"I'm going to the library; I need to do some research. See if I can put a name to our demon," he replied softly.

"Demon's have names," Mike squeaked.

"Yeah, and a lot of their power is in their name. We find out what it is and we might be able to get control of it."

"Control it, control a damn demon." Mike took a slow step back and stared at the young hunter. He didn't know what else to say, didn't know what to do, what to believe. He felt like he was being sucked into a nightmare and hoped he would wake up to find it was just that - a nightmare, a bad dream and his town would be back to normal. Beth would be waiting at the office when morning rolled around, Mike sighed but it wasn't going to happen like that.

The sheriff pulled his keys out of his pocket and slipped one from the ring handing it to Sam. "This will open the back door to the library. What ever you need, you just ask. This town will support you one hundred percent."

Sam opened his mouth to thank the sheriff. But Mike held up his hand cutting him off. "We owe you and we'll do what we have to do to get Dean and Beth back. If it means tearing this town apart or traveling half way around the world to find them, we'll do it."


	8. Chapter 8 Intervention

**Chapter 8 Intervention**

Dean woke slowly, his body burned with pain as he shifted position. He opened his eyes to a dark shadowy world. Memories of the attack came flooding back. "Beth," he whispered quietly.

He swiveled left then right trying to catch sight of her. It wasn't until he looked up that he found her. Her bloodied form was hanging upside down from the rafters. "Beth," he screamed, but she didn't answer. Struggling hard to free himself, Dean heard harsh laughter from behind him. The sound made him shiver but he didn't stop his struggles to free himself.

Heavy footsteps crossed the room stopping beside him. Anger flooded the young hunter, he snapped to a sitting position taunting the black figure. "What's your deal, dog breath?"

The dark figure only laughed. "You can insult me all you like hunter, but I will have what I seek."

"Yeah well, you won't get it from me," Dean snarled.

"Ahhh, but I will, one way or another" the gravely voice murmured. Reaching down he easily lifted Dean up holding him at eye level, the hunter's toes barely scraping the concrete floor.

Dean hissed in pain, his already abused neck burned anew with the dark demon's touch. "I want it and I will have it," Belathauzer snapped.

"Go to hell," Dean ground out.

The dark demon laughed, the evil sound echoing around the room. "I have been there hunter, it's where I plan to send you soon enough. You and your family have troubled us for too long. We will regain dominion over this world and you cannot stop us."

Dean laughed, but fear filled his heart. It wasn't for himself, but for his little brother. Sam was different, and Dean was going to do his best to protect him. This creature facing him was a Dark Lord, an elder Demon driven from earth eons ago. They were powerful creatures once with great armies. How the hell were they going to get out of this one?

Walking across the room, the Demon set Dean down in front of Beth's broken body. "Did you love her," the dark voice asked quietly. "She was beautiful."

Dean sucked in a breath, he could see the slight rise and fall of Beth's chest, she was still breathing, but the Demon talked about her in the past. His mind screamed. He knew what was coming. He also knew he was helpless to stop it.

Beth groaned, coming back to life. Dean could almost have wished she'd stayed unconscious. Seeing the Demon facing her was torture.

The dark shape coalesced and rose into the air. Black Mist surrounded Beth and she screamed in terror. Ebony tendrils snaked out wrapping around her, tearing at her. Heat suddenly scorched his face when the mist flared brightly.

"Dammit," Dean screamed. "Leave her alone. She's no threat to you. I'm going to kill you. You hear me, I'm going to kill you," he screamed defiantly. Fighting the bonds that circled his body he didn't feel the pain. His wrists ran red as the black tendrils scraped at his skin.

He felt the dark laughter slide over him. Beth's agonizing screams sliced into him. Adrenalin shot through the hunter but nothing he did, nothing he said would stop Beth from dying. Her cries were abruptly silenced. A fateful hush filled the warehouse.

The Dark Lord had sucked the life from her body and burned her beautiful face beyond recognition. He took back his shape; his fingers hovered over her once beautiful face before he plucked her eyes from their sockets.

Tears of grief coursed down Dean's cheeks. It was his fault she was dead. He knew better than to get involved, now Beth was dead because of him, because of what he was. He lay on his side sobbing quietly, tears streaking down his cheeks, his body shaking with anguish and misery.

It didn't last, rage was building inside him and soon roared to life, he would never give up, never surrender to the Dark Lord, but he would make him pay if he could. The Dark Lord materialized at his feet and Dean gathered his energy. His body jackknifed his legs slashing backward to sweep the demon's feet out from beneath him.

The black cloak figure grunted in surprise and hit the floor hard

In the sky above them the clouds parted sending bright rays of moonlight streaming through the skylights into the roof below.

He heard the demon hiss and roll away as the bright light struck him. Again and again Dean shouted the word 'Cristo.' He saw the body spasm in pain, the black eyes for a moment turned sapphire as the demon was driven back. The horrified face turned to Dean. It wasn't the Demon who stared at the hunter but the boy Balthazar had stolen.

"Help me," the cracking voice whispered.

Dean sucked in a breath, the boy still lived.

Balthazar roared as rage consumed him. Sapphire eyes snapped to black as the demon shot to his feet. "You dare," the monster bellowed.

Retaliation was swift. Dean could not avoid the blow. The Demon kicked out catching the hunter in the stomach and lifting him into the air. Grabbing the hunter the Demon shoved with all his might sending Dean spiraling backward. He hit the wall hard, the breath knocked from his body. He heard an ominous crack but didn't care. He hit the floor, his pain wracked body unable to take much more.

Miles away a tired young hunter had laid his head down. Tears streaked his cheeks but no one was there to see, he preferred it that way. Sleep had claimed him but it couldn't stop the despair. Yet even in sleep he searched for his brother. The connection was instantaneous and he shot to his feet, sleep falling away.

"Dean," Sam's anguished voice cried. He felt his brother's pain when Beth died, felt his fury as he tried to resist. Felt the agony as he was tossed across the room. He watched and joy for a moment filled his heart.

In the bright moonlight Beth's tortured body began to glow. The Soul Shrieker hissed and sped toward the mist forming around her. Her soul was rising up, heading for the light as the Soul Shrieker moved to intercept. A ball of bright white light exploded around her. A ghostly shaped formed inserting itself between Beth's soul and the Fairy. The figure was tiny and petite and she leaned heavily on a carved wooden cane. Vivian's voice roared through the warehouse. "You shall not have her." Vivian's essence gathered Beth close. The fairy shrieked angrily darting in to grab for Beth's soul to no avail. Vivian swatted at the fairy sending it tumbling backward.

Even the demon stepped away. He had no dominion in this and he would not tempt the fates.

Vivian rose into the air taking what remained of Beth with her. Leaving the warehouse silent and gleaming in the moonlight.

Dean opened his eyes when he heard the roar and the angry words. His eyes sought the bright light that surrounded Beth and watched.

"Vivian," Sam cried quietly.

The ghostly figure of Vivian looked down a the hunter sorrow in her eyes. "Be strong young Warrior, be strong for him," she whispered in his mind.

Warmth that only his brother could bring coursed through Dean. Tied together, Seer and Warrior his body lit up like a Christmas tree. Bright and shining the light flowed into the room. The ghouls cringed away; the demon licked his lips hungrily, but dared not touch his hearts desire lest it consume him. And he knew in his heart the power these two men wielded together could destroy him.

A tired mind sought the warmth, greedily wrapped it around him. But the man sighed in frustration. "You're not going to run are you Sammy," he asked gently.

"Not without you," the younger hunter replied.

Searing pain sliced through Dean at the thought of his brother coming for him but he smiled gently before sliding into the blessed relief of unconsciousness. He never felt the long scraping claws of the ghouls as they dragged him from the warehouse.

"Dean," Sam shouted across the quiet library. His brother was alive, and there was hope.

oooOOOooo

In the darkness the Demon plucked the tiny soul shrieker from the air and held it out in front of him. Each hand held a wing. "You are no longer of use to me." An evil malicious smile crossed his lips as he plucked the wings from the Fairy's body. He tossed them away and dropped the writhing body of the soul shrieker to the cold floor.

The fairy's pitiful cries echoed in the warehouse but no one heard them. He had paid for his arrogance with his life.

oooOOOooo

In the bright moonlight a ravaged body hung from the rafters, her arms outstretched – she was a beacon the demon hoped would draw the other. A trap had been laid, the bait set, he waited only for his prey to step inside. He would not underestimate his quarry.


	9. Chapter 9 Sorrow

**Chapter 9 Sorrow**

John Winchester was four hours away from Fremont, Indiana. He felt the phone vibrating in his pocket, but couldn't let himself be distracted. He had his own demons to hunt. He was tired and hurt. Needing a long sleep and some good food, but he couldn't stop now. He too close.

At first he'd thought Tasha had been tracked by a pack of wild dogs, hell-hounds maybe, but he soon learned differently. Ghouls were on her trail. Tasha was a good friend; she didn't deserve what they had done to her.

She had called him two days ago. She had been scared and Tasha never got scared. She had informed him something was hunting the hunters and she feared she was next.

John was too late. He should have been here soon, pushed the truck a little harder. He heard her screaming. Running toward the sound he saw them slashing at her body. The bright flashlight in his hands was turned on the grisly scene. The creatures fled in terror. Growling and snapping at each other as they ran.

Kneeling beside her, John gently wiped at her face. She couldn't speak could hardly breath. "An ambulance is on the way Tash, hold on," he whispered.

It took them ten minutes to arrive; the EMT's only stared in horror.

"Do something," John snapped angrily.

Her body was a grizzly sight, but they quickly went to work, staunching the flow of blood as best they could. With John's help the injured Tasha was loaded in the ambulance. "I'll take care of them Tasha," he whispered.

Feebly her hand reached for him, her head shook trying to tell him no, but John wanted the creatures. He'd seen them knew what he was facing. He didn't waste time. Returning to his truck John slid his hand beneath the drivers' seat and pulled out a machete. It was honed to razor sharpness and would do the trick.

He stashed several more knives in his coat and in the sleeves of his jacket. Locking the truck he grabbed the flashlight. Their trail was easy to follow; their nails had scraped at the ground, and broken off limbs and scratched tree trunks as they fled.

He was nearing town when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. A sense of fear and terrible horror filled him. He pushed it away. That was their power. That was how they seduced their victims, paralyzing them with fear.

In the dim light John saw the rising steeple of a church. Behind the church he could hear them, scrabbling through the graveyard. They knew they were being hunted. They were drawing their victim in, preparing for the kill. They hungered for his blood.

John hid the machete beneath his jacket, a hunting knife strapped to his left thigh laid waiting. He slipped silently into the churchyard. To the right he saw three ghoulish creatures. Their bald heads were bobbing in anticipation. Long skeletal fingers played a eerie tune on the granite headstone as they waited for him.

Three waited, but John knew at least two more of creatures were hidden nearby ready to attack. Those were his first targets.

John waited, still and silent his eyes searching the graveyard. His patience was rewarded when the ghouls grew restive and strayed from their hiding place. John drew a silent breath and moved to intercept his targets. The machete materialized in his right hand, and swung hard. His stroke separated the skeletal head from the neck of the first ghoul. John spun right and slammed a six inch blade into the second ghoul's chest.

The creature gurgled in fear, his eyes rolled upward as blood rushed from his chest into his throat. John continued his spin the machete coming full circle to slice through the scrawny neck parting it from the body.

A few feet away the three remaining ghouls rushed to the attack. Long razor sharp claws were splayed wide slashing at John as he ducked away. They moved to surround him cutting off his escape.

A knowing smile curved John's lips. They were fast, they were deadly but they weren't very smart. Dropping low John leaped forward driving the knife in and up slicing the closest ghoul from stomach to chest. The machete came up slicing at the two remaining ghouls.

The first ghoul fell backward screaming in pain and rage. Fists slashed outward catching John across the right shoulder, tearing through the heavy material of his jacket and slicing into the muscle below.

John hissed as the pain tore through him, but he didn't stop his swing. He gritted his teeth and leaped right his backhanded swing slicing through the neck of another ghoul. The third ghoul squealed in terror and scrambled away. John hissed but let the fiendish creature go.

Stepping back to the injured ghoul he pulled a small lighter from his pocket and lit it. The flame rose only an inch into the air, but the ghoul cowered back scrambling away from the flame.

"Tell me who sent you," John snarled as he flashed the bright flame closer to the ghouls face.

The ghoul cowered back against a gray green granite headstone, hiding his face to avoid the flame.

"I'm only going to ask once," John growled.

The grayish creature babbled in fear and John had a hard time understanding the clicking tongue.

"Say it again," John screamed.

The terrified ghoul was afraid, to say the demon's name was death. And he feared the demon more than he feared the man. Ghouls were not the smartest creatures to rise from the darkness. They hunted in packs, seeking the security of numbers. Now he was alone, the pack gone. There was no protection.

His nasally whine was a piercing cry in the darkness. "The Dark Lord has risen," he cried shrilly.

"I want a name, dammit," John screamed

"The Dark Lord has no name," the ghoul cried.

With a flick of his finger John sent the flame rising higher. The flickering flame danced across the ghouls arm. The creature screamed in fear and pain slapping at the fire as it climbed higher up his arm.

The ghoul babbled a name beneath his breath, fearing the fire more than he feared the dark demon.

John slapped him upside the head and doused the flame. "Tell me his name," John hissed.

"Balthazar," the ghoul screamed, giving John the common pronunciation.

John stepped back in shock. "Balthazar," he whispered quietly. An elder demon, one of the strongest and most powerful demons to exist had risen and crossed over. How was that possible? It would have taken a great deal of power and knowledge to bridge the two planes.

"Where is he," John threatened. The flame flickered higher and John waved it close to the ghouls face.

The ghoul screamed in terror. It hated and feared fire, even more than the demon.

"Tell me," John growled.

"Many mile east - a school, the name I do not know," the ghoul screeched.

Fire licked at the ghouls arm, and he screeched in pain and terror giving up what he knew. "Purdy," the gray monster screamed, "Purdy."

John turned away leaving the ghoul unguarded. The ghoul scrambled up slashing at John's unprotected thigh. Sharp claws snaked out, only to be met by the finely honed edge of the machete. Rage swept through the hunter, the blade flashed backward severing the gray claws from the hand. Spinning left the hunter swung the blade in a downward arch severing the head from the body. The ghoul flopped to the ground its life spilling away in the dark soil of the graveyard.

Flame flickered to life in the hunter's hand and John set fire to the gray skin. Four more times, the gray ghouls burned before John would allow himself to feel the ache of his own wounds. His shoulder burned painfully from the deep scratches. He could feel the warmth of his blood streaming down his back and soaking into his shirt. He guessed rightly that he would need stitches to close the worst of the deep cuts.

Still shocked by the knowledge he had gained John stumbled from the graveyard back toward his truck. The phone in his pocket forgotten as he headed for the hospital, first to see Tasha, his own wounds could wait.

oooOOOooo

Tasha lay in ICU. She was hooked up to all the bells and whistles, with tubes running in all directions. A pint of blood and what John assumed was anti-biotics hung from a metal hook beside the bed.

He held himself stiffly, his injured arm close to his side. He needed to know!

Quiet footsteps came up beside him. "You can't be here sir," the nurse whispered.

"Is she going to pull through," he asked.

"Are you a relative," the nurse asked?

"Uncle," he lied smoothly.

The nurse smiled, but didn't challenge the statement. It wouldn't hurt anything to tell him. "The doctors worked too long and too hard, to let her go. She'll make it."

"Thank god," John whispered. It was like a weight had been lifted and John could feel the adrenalin draining away. He swayed dangerously.

The Nurse caught him as his knees buckled. Calling for an orderly John protested weakly as they lifted him onto a gurney wheeled him down to the emergency room.

Settling him in a trauma room the nurse peeled off his jacket and shirt to see the deep cuts across his left shoulder. Exactly like the woman in ICU. What kind a creature she wondered could cause such horrific wounds?

The doctors were almost done setting the stitches when John remembered his phone. Reaching for his shirt only a few feet away, he searched the pocket with his good hand.

He sucked in a breath when he saw the number. Sam never called him, it was always Dean. A chill swept through him something was wrong, desperately wrong. Flipping over, John didn't even wait for the doctor to finish putting the bandage in place before he was on his feet.

"Wait," the doctor ordered. But John didn't stop to listen. Dialing his voice mail he listened to Sam's voice. Dread filled his heart. Balthazar was hunting and he had Dean. John didn't know if he would kill him or use him as bait. He could hope the latter. It would give him and Sam time to get there, time to come up with a plan and get Dean back.

Dialing Sam's number the phone had barely began to ring when it was answered.

"Dad," the familiar voice answered.

"Tell me what you know Sam," John stated.

"Not much," the young hunter answered. "I saw a dark cloaked figure standing over Dean. Its eyes were coal black and dead. There were other creatures with it, ghouls I think. He took Dean and a police officer through some kind of portal. I found traces of it in the air and a symbol."

"What kind of symbol," John asked quickly.

"It was round with an inverted cross in the center and two heads." Sam paused, unsure what his father was thinking. "Do you know what it means dad," he asked urgently.

"Balthazar," John whispered.

Sam stuttered as he said the word. "Balthazar… Dad," Sam whispered in shock. He slumped down in his chair despair his closest companion. They both knew what the name meant."

"He's killing hunters," John whispered faintly. "The bastard nearly got Tasha, Pete and Alex are missing."

"We have to find him Dad, Dean's still alive - I know it."

"We'll find him Sam," John's words were softly spoken, but it was how he said it that gave Sam hope.

"I had a run in with the ghouls that tried to kill Tasha. The creature said he's in a school somewhere east of here. That's puts him in Illinois or Indiana."

"Hell there are a hundred schools between here and there," Sam told him.

"He said Purdy, but I've never heard of it.

"Damn it Dad, could he mean Perdue – it's a big University in Ft Wayne about fifty miles from here.

"I'm four hours out. I'll meet you at O'Bannon's place. See what you can find out Sam. If Balthazar has been there for any length of time there's got to be a trail."

"I'll find him Dad," Sam's voice was resolute. Snapping the phone closed he heard the back door to the library open.


	10. Chapter 10 On the Move

**I hope you like this story. It's kinda taken a turn I wasn't really expecting. It's almost done though. Another couple of day should do it. Please R & R, its nice to know my time and energy is appreciate by others. Thanks to all for you great reviews. Hugs.**

**Chapter 10 On the move**

The Young hunter was packing up his gear when he heard the back door to the library open. A headache pounded relentlessly at him. He'd forgotten the Sheriff, forgotten for the moment his vision of Beth.

"Going somewhere," Mike asked gently.

"I'm sorry Mike," was all Sam could squeak out. His throat was tight, his voice harsh and hollow as he spoke.

"Sorry about what," the Sheriff asked?

Sam shook his head; there was no good way to tell the Sheriff. No good way to describe what he'd seen. "Beth is dead."

Mike opened his mouth to deny the words but stopped himself. "Where is she?"

"I'm not sure, but I think she's in Ft Wayne somewhere in an abandoned warehouse. There were lights in the background and a billboard. Some kind of restaurant advertisement I think."

"Dean," the Sheriff asked quietly.

Sam shook his head, "Alive. The demon wants something from him."

"What," Mike snapped.

Sam shrugged, unsure of how to answer or what to say.

"What," Mike shouted this time.

"He want's power, he'll do everything he can to obtain it - and he wants to kill hunters, all hunters."

"Hunters, like you and your brother," Mike whispered.

"And my dad and others like us or anyone who gets in their way," Sam supplies softly.

"How on earth can you stop something like that?"

"There are a couple of things we can do. Exorcise the demon from the body it inhabits and drive it back to hell or find some kind of weapon that will destroy it permanently. Weapons of that caliber are few and far between."

"Things like that really exist? Shit – don't answer that, I already know what you're going to say. A demon destroying weapon, what next," the sheriff groused.

A crooked smile lifted the corner of Sam mouth. "I have to leave. I'm meeting my dad in Ft. Wayne. He might have found the demon we're looking for."

"I'm going with you," Mike stated. His voice brooked no refusal.

Sam sighed, he had hoped to disappear but Mike deserved more than a curt note. "I'll get my gear and meet you at Police headquarters."

The sheriff nodded and turned to leave. He wanted to say something meaningful, something that would comfort the young man standing beside him, but words seemed so insignificant at this point. He nodded a hand coming up to rest on Sam's shoulder pressing gently.

Sam smiled a slow pained smile that told the sheriff, his gesture was understood, and gratefully accepted.

oooOOOooo

Both men, Sheriff and Seer were silent. The drive seemed endless and Sam tried hard not to think about what Dean was going through. Every few minutes he would reach out with his mind hoping to make the connection to his brother. Only once did he catch a fleeting glimpse before the door was slammed shut. He had felt his brother's rage, but he had also felt Dean's sorrow. Beth was dead. He also saw pain, Dean was in terrible pain.

Sam punched the accelerator, at least Dean was alive, but that thought gave him little comfort.

He had meet Mick O'Bannon a couple of times. Usually during a hunt and knew the man would do his utmost to help.

It was a little after six am when Sam pulled into the parking lot behind O'Bannon's bar. The front parking area was empty and the lights were off. If Sam knew his man, Mick O'Bannon would still be awake sipping on a pint of Guinness. The proprietor and owner of the pub was a jovial man who, like John Winchester had hunted devils and demons most of his life. Mick and John Winchester were close. They had partnered for a while hunting a darkness that had killed four children. A knife to the back by a vindictive vampire had put an end to that. Now he hunted nothing more dangerous than the right mix to put in his drinks and a rowdy pub patron every once in a while.

Beneath his pain and fear for his brother Sam smiled slightly. Mick could be a pain in the butt, but he was a great strategist and tactician. If anyone could figure out where Balthazar was hiding and how to get Dean back, Mick could!

Throwing his backpack over his shoulder he headed for the back door, Mike close on his heels. Sam thumbed in the combo and waited for the soft click before opening the door. The storeroom was empty as they wended their way through the stacks of boxes on their way to the back stairs.

Mick was waiting in the apartment above the pub, newspapers and maps spread on the table in front of him.

"It's sorry I am, Sammy boy. Yer Da called me, I've been searchin the papers and I think I've come up with our Demon."

"Thanks Mick, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, this is Mike McCarty."

"Mike, it's sorry I am to meet you under these circumstances lad."

"I lost a good friend to this demon and I aim to take it down," Mike replied softly. The smile of greeting was genuine, but the resolute and implacable look in his eyes told Mick it was vengeance the man sought.

Holding out his hand Mick sighed. Vengeance had its place, but this wasn't one of them. It would do no good to tell the man so; he would have to learn it for himself. Hopefully it wouldn't be too late.

Mike's smile was grim as he shook the older man's hand.

Greetings over Mick explained what he had found, beginning with the deaths of two hunters three days before.

"The coppers found em hung from the rafters in an old warehouse in southern Michigan. Their bodies charred, their eyes plucked from there heads. This is a bad one Sam, a real bastard. I got four other police reports of charred bodies hung from trees, light posts and roofs. The bodies were found in Boston, Cleveland, Pittsburg and the first sighting was here in Ft. Wayne. Nearly a year ago a fraternity house at the University was destroyed. It wasn't just destroyed Sam my boy. The building was burned to the ground. Firefighters said the place went up like a fireball."

"Fire is Balthazar's dominion," the old hunter stated softly. "Hell fire," he finished on a sigh. "We have a name, now we need his essence."

"Essence," Mike asked?

"It's his nature, the fundamental spirit that defines him, his soul," Mick answered quickly?

Sam was up pacing the room. Hell fire now burned in the young hunters eyes as he mulled over the information.

"There were sixteen kids in that house." Mick went on, "One was found hanging from a tree outside. His arms were outstretched like an upside down cross. All the victims were found in the same position."

"That's it," Sam shouted. "That's the symbol I saw, an upside down cross but there were two heads, one on either side."

"You saw his symbol," Mick nearly shrieked, "Where, how?"

"He wrote it in the air just before he took Dean and Beth."

"The ole buggers grown careless to leave his mark so openly," Mick murmured.

"Kiss the ole blarney stone Sam me boy, cause you've found the key to sending this demon back to his hell hole. All we have to do now is find the crossing point."

"What about the fraternity house," Mike suggested. "If that's were the first sighting occurred maybe that's where he came through. He marked it with fire and a victim."

Two heads snapped up to stare at the Sheriff, then swiveled to stare at each other.

"It will be heavily guarded," A fourth voice broke in.

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_**Another chapter down, I know it's mostly fluff, but I had a hard time coming up with a middle piece. Please R & R – let me know how you feel, what your thinking please.**_


	11. Chapter 11 Setting the Trap

**Chapter 11 Setting the trap**

Sam spun around to face his father. He looked exhausted and was carrying himself gingerly as if he was hurt or injured somehow.

John Winchester stood framed in the doorway. His eyes searched his son's looking for something. John liked what he saw; strength and determination were written on Sam's face and in his stance. He was very proud of the young man, proud to call him son. Why did he have such a hard time saying it?

Walking into the room he clapped a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed it. "We need to get a look at the place."

"I'll go," Mike volunteered.

"Dad, this is Mike McCarty, his deputy was with Dean when the Demon attacked. She didn't make it," Sam added quietly.

"Mike," John acknowledged holding out his hand. "I'm sorry."

The sheriff took the offered hand and shook it strongly. He was a little surprised by what he saw. John Winchester was a guarded man. His eyes flickered a welcome but gave nothing away. His emotions were bottled up hidden inside where no one could find him. Mike saw the way he looked at his son. There was tension between them and he wondered why.

Without breaking stride John dived into the discussion. "The demon won't wait long. We need to beat him at his own game. Balthazar will use Dean as bait to draw Sam out. He may not know there are more of us, but he will plan for it. The trap is already set, but we have to beat him at his own game."

"How do we do that," Mike asked unsure of what would come next in the game of hunting demons?

"We can't go to him; we have to draw him to us. We recon the fraternity house, if it's empty that's where we set up our own trap. If he's there we find a way to keep him occupied while we send his ass back to hell. My gut tells me we're running out of time."

On the wall across the room the phone rang startling all of them. Rushing across the room Mick answered it before the second ring finished, "O'Bannon's."

None of them could hear the one sided conversation but they all saw Mick's head come up sorrow reflected in his eyes.

Sam's breath caught in his throat. No, he prayed it wasn't Dean. He was alive, he would know if his brother was dead.

Mick sighed heavily and hung up the phone. "They found another body, female – hung upside down from the rafters in an old warehouse on the south side of town." He didn't tell them the woman's eyes were missing. He could see the hurt in the Sheriff and wouldn't compound it further.

Mike and Sam breathed her name together, "Beth."

Mike turned away to stare out the window. He had hoped Sam was wrong. If they didn't have a body she could still be alive, but now? Now all hope was lost, Beth, tiny petite fun loving Beth was dead.

He wanted to scream, break something – anything, it wouldn't bring Beth back, but it would make him feel a whole lot better. Instead he balled his fists, clenched his teeth and swallowed his anger. He needed a clear head for what was too come. Anger would only cloud his judgment. A moment later he turned back and drew a deep breath. "I'll take a look at the Frat house."

"First I think we all could use some food and sleep," Mick offered.

All three men wanted to protest. They needed to move, needed to be doing something.

"You know I'm right," Mick stated.

Three heads nodded but they all grumbled silently at the delay.

oooOOOooo

Four hours later they reappeared. John had managed to catch a couple hours sleep and had quickly downed a couple of pain killers. His shoulder was sore and tight, but it wouldn't prevent him from doing what he had to do to save his son. Nothing would get in the way – nothing he vowed.

Sam had managed to get a couple hours sleep, but food had been beyond him. Even the smell had made him nauseous. He sat at the table under his father's watchful eye and nibbled on an apple John had handed him. He only hoped he could keep it down.

A few minutes later Mike came through the door, his hair was mussed but he was wide awake. Special Forces training stood him in good stead. He had the ability to fall asleep anytime, anywhere and the alarm in his head would wake him when it was time to roll out. This day he had slept but not peacefully. Beth's face had intruded into his dreams. He would miss her.

The plan was set, and they moved through the little apartment gathering their gear. Sam sat at the table a mulish look on his handsome face. Before sleeping Sam had told his father of his fledgling abilities and his connection to Dean.

John had made it clear he was not to set foot outside the apartment until he came back. "If Dean needs you I want you to be there for him, you understand?"

"Yeah Dad," Sam grumbled. Walking away he murmured beneath is breath, "Dean always comes first."

John heard and spun his youngest son to face him. "That's not true son and you know it. I love you both equally, but right now you are the only one who can talk to him. The only one who can give us first hand information on this Demon? I need you here, Dean needs you here."

Sam's mouth gaped open, his father had actually said he loved him. He stared at his father and nodded. He was right! Dean needed him and come hell or high water he would be there for him, just as Dean had always been there for him.

oooOOOooo

Mike drove through the quiet neighborhood getting his first good look at the ravaged fraternity house. Two brick walls front and east side still stood. The rest was a burned out hulk. It seemed unlikely that anyone could be hiding there but he wasn't taking any chances.

Parking the car a block away the ex-Special Forces operative wended his way through the quiet neighborhood back to the burned out Frat house. He waited patiently in the shadows of the bushes behind the house. It was an unnatural place. Nothing moved. No birds were singing in the trees, not even a cricket's chirp broke the eerie silence.

Ready to make his move Mike saw a shadow slide across the back of the house. He froze watching as the gray figure slid behind the rubble and disappeared. A ghoul, Sam had described it. So they had been right, seconds later three more of the ghastly creatures followed. Mike desperately wanted to get inside and take a look around, but if he got caught or the creatures got his scent the trap could be sprung too soon. The Demon would sacrifice his captive if he had too. Mike couldn't take the chance.

An hour later he dared move, backing out of his hiding place slowly. Unseen he made his way to the car. The movement of the creatures was burned in his mind, the location of the entrance with it. It was a little after three when he found himself back at the bar.

Sam sat at the table broodingly silent. Dean hadn't answered his call. Unconscious? Sam could only guess.

oooOOOooo

He didn't need sleep but the body he inhabited did, but that could wait. The bait in the warehouse had been discovered, he would wait to see who showed up. His misty form hung in the darkness of the rafters, waiting. Uniformed officers and dark suited officials came and went. Nothing was out of place.

Ire grew, he wanted it, and he would have it.

Time was growing short when the scent of a hunter caught his attention.

All the suits and uniforms were gone when he heard the quiet squeaking of a side door.

Darkness circled the rafters preparing to strike.

John walked through the door his hackles rising. Yellow tape crisscrossed the floor of the warehouse. Finely honed senses told him he was being watched. His hand slid beneath his coat fingers poised over the handle of the machete strapped there. Bright eyes searched the darkness but he found no trace of an intruder. Staying alert knowing an attack could happen at any moment John started his search.

He worked his way across the room picturing in his mind the way things might have been early that morning. Dark strands of some kind of rope hung from the rafters. A pool of blood was smeared across the floor beneath it. "Beth," he whispered softly. Smears of blood a few feet away caught his attention. His heart thumped in his chest, knowing the blood staining the floor was his son's. "Dean," he cried silently.

Following the trail he found a pillar ten feet away, more blood stained the concrete. John hissed.

The Demon above him froze, the scent was the same, but this was not the one he sought. This one was different somehow; the aura surrounding him was harder, more jaded, tinged with crimson. This was a great hunter and his time to die would come soon but not now. He would watch and see where the hunter led.

The Dark Lord summoned his minions. Beneath the burned out Fraternity house two of his creatures awakened. They answered his call. Gliding through the shadows they made their way to the darkened warehouse and waited. They were mindless creatures doing their masters bidding but very dangerous.

Ghouls feared only three things, fire, a sharp blade and bright light. This day a storm had rolled in. Overhead dark clouds obscured the sun allowing them to move freely during daylight hours. Lightening flashed in the sky as they waited in the shadows not far from the back door to the warehouse.

John took his time, but he knew even before he started the search that neither the demon nor his son were in or near the warehouse.

He sighed, hoping Mike's search had been more fruitful.

Opening the back door of the warehouse he felt the fear rise up inside him. Horror filled his mind. He tamped it down, regaining control. The ghouls were here, waiting. He would play their game – for a short while.

_**This chapter beat me up some, hope you like, please R & R. Thanks, Huggers all.**_


	12. Chapter 12 Surviving

_**This was an interesting chapter to write. I hope you like it and I didn't get too carried away with the angst stuff.**_

**---------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 12 Surviving**

The Demon floated to the floor and took back human shape. His fingers traced a symbol in the air opening a portal. Miles away another door opened and he stepped into the basement of the burned out fraternity house.

The gray creatures cringed as Belathauzer passed unsure what mood their master was in this day. His hand came up hovering close to the wall as he whispered the command. The wall shimmered iridescent in shades of blues and blacks. The demon stepped through into a dimly lit cavern. His captive lay a few feet away. The Dark Lord gazed at his prize. The scent was the same as the hunter in the warehouse. He needed to know more.

Closing his eyes the demon held out his hand. He could feel the terrible agony coursing through his captive. It was this pain that kept him unconscious. He would have to work quickly. He whistled a harsh tune and suppressed the pain that coursed through Dean's body.

The hunter's body shivered. Dean drew a deep breath and struggled back through the dark abyss. Relief greeted him when consciousness returned. He wondered where he was, assuming a hospital with drugs coursing through his veins. Tired eyes flickered open. He was wrong!

"Welcome back," the dark voice whispered.

"Dog Breath," Dean hissed as he stared at the Demon.

Belathauzer laughed. "Still so defiant young hunter? No for long," the Dark Lord chuckled maliciously.

Black bindings fell away. Like a puppet on a string he pulled Dean into the air. "I've met a relative of your."

'_Not Sam,'_ Dean cried silently, wishing for the cool comfort of his brother's touch.

Dean gritted his teeth and eyed the demon carefully. "Sorry Dog Breath I'm an orphan."

The demon ignored the comment, "He found my offering, would you like to see him before I have him torn to shreds."

The demon couldn't touch John Winchester's mind, but through the ghouls he could see his quarry and showed him now to his prisoner.

Dean held his mask in place as the picture of his father was draped on the wall in front of him. The warrior gave nothing away, but inside he was reeling. Silently he shouted to his father, _'Dad behind you'_.

A soft breeze whispered on the wind. John turned – but no one was there. He shook his head lifting it into the air. It whispered of excitement and suppressed energy. His shadows were preparing to strike.

"Do you know who he is," the demon asked.

"Him," Dean yawned. "Never saw him before, or wait, yeah I've seen him." he grinned. "He's that game show host on TV – what's his name?" Dean paused as if searching his mind for something, "Pat something or other… Sajak – Yeah that's him Pat Sajak."

"I grow weary of your game, little hunter," the Demon growled.

Dean tried but couldn't lift his right arm. A quick check showed his should tilted at an unnatural angle – dislocated or broken. '_Damn that's going to hurt_,' he grumbled. Using his left hand instead he tapped his mouth to cover a yawn. "You bore me," the hunter sighed.

The Dark Lord was not a patient creature; he growled beneath his breath and snapped the string of his puppet upward.

Dean couldn't stop the groan that welled up in his chest, his body protesting the rough treatment. He wondered why he felt no pain. He didn't want to think about what he looked like. There were long gaping tears in his clothes and skin below; some of them were still oozing his life's blood onto the rocky floor beneath him. There should have been pain, but he felt nothing.

His voice low and deadly the demon stepped close to his captive. "Who is he?"

Between gritted teeth, Dean smirked and cocked his head to one side staring at the picture playing on the cave's wall. He was only buying time. "He's my uncle Jimmy."

"Uncle," the demon crowed.

"Maybe you've heard of him. Jimmy Dean, he sells sausages."

Fury raged through the demon and he lost control. He jerked Dean upward erasing the symbols that blocked the pain from his captives mind.

Dean couldn't stop the scream, his body burned as the agony of his injuries rushed in. He felt his world being ripped apart. He never meant to show his pain, never meant to show his fear, but he was beyond thought, beyond reason.

The demon tossed his puppet away and turned to face the hunters' picture splayed across the wall. "Kill him," the Demon snarled at his minions.

The injured hunter never saw the ghastly creatures move in for the attack on his father.

The demon watched, confident his creatures would tear the older hunter to shreds. He was sadly mistaken. Even injured John Winchester was a force like no other.

He heard the clicking of claws as the creature attacked. John went low pulling the machete from beneath his coat. His first swing came across in an upward arc catching the closest ghoul in the side. The creature split in two – both pieces falling away to wriggle on the ground at his feet.

The hunter came around full swing and leaped into the air as the second ghoul came at him. The creature was fast and spun away but not before his claws scraped across the hunters left thigh. They weren't deep, mere scratches to the hunter.

The heat of battle was upon him and John barely felt the scratches. He followed the ghouls' movements and closed the distance between. His arms came across in a level swing and sliced the creatures head cleanly from its neck.

The first creature's pitiful cries caught his attention, it wasn't dead. The upper torso was scrabbling across the dirt reaching for the lower half of its body.

He kicked the body flipping it onto its back. The creature mewled and scrambled backward leaving a trail of black sludge in the dirt.

"I want to know where the demon is," John roared. "Tell me."

"Here. here, the gray creature replied, tapping at his head.

Fire flickered in the hunter's hand. He moved in holding the lighter beneath the ghoul's chin. "Tell me where."

The creature babbled incoherently terrified to move lest the fire touch him.

Belathauzer stood watching, hatred for the hunter in his eyes. Raising his hand he drew a symbol in the air. With a flick of his hand he sent the symbol racing across the miles.

The creature screamed in fear, the only warning John would get. He threw himself to the side as the ghoul exploded. The concussion picked the hunter up and tossed him across the ground.

Gingerly he sat up wiping the dust and dirt from his face. A wiry twist tilted his lips. He'd been closer to the demon than he'd thought. He swore softly beneath his breath. Would the demon change his plan?

The Demon screamed his fury, the little cave filling with the stench of his hot fetid breath. He raged and turned to stare at his captive. Death was in his eyes, hatred for the human and his kin. Reaching for him he drew in a breath and stopped.

A few miles away a lonely dejected figure sat at the table twirling a spoon on the kitchen table. Dean's agony pierced the young hunters mind. His body jerked upward a deafening scream of pain was torn from his throat.

Dean's cry had pierced the shields surrounding the Demon's cave. His mind reached for his brothers. '_Sammy_,' he cried silently, unaware he was touching his brother's mind until he felt the warmth suddenly surrounding him.

Mick caught Sam as he fell, shuddering as his brothers pain flooded through him. He took it gladly hoping that it would ease his brother's suffering. '_Dean_,' he whispered quietly, '_I'm here_.'

'_God, Sammy, it hurts_,' Dean cried desperately.

'_Sammy_,' the young hunter whispered, so his brother didn't just use it annoy him.

Sam could think of only one place to take his brother. The walls of Vivian's house became his reality and he took Dean with him. They lay in the quiet meadow drinking in the sunlight. It was quiet and peaceful and the young Seer could feel the agony in his brother's mind and body ease. It was working. Sam held back the tears needing to be strong for his grievously injured sibling.

The pain in his body eased as he regained control. He knew in his heart his body couldn't take much more abuse. '_Is this heaven_,' Dean asked quietly.

'_Heaven on earth_,' Sam breathed.

He hated to do it, but time was running out and they needed to know, '_Where are you Dean_?'

'_I don't know_,' came the anguished reply.

'_Dad is here and we're coming for you but you have to help us_.'

'_Dad is under attack_,' the wounded warrior cried.

'_Dad can take care of himself, he faced five of them last night, this will be a cake walk for him_.'

A crooked smile tips the corners of Dean's lips. '_Dad would have my hide, wouldn't he for questioning his prowess_,' Dean grinned.

'_Yup and I'm telling_,' Sam quipped.

'_Snitch_,' Dean chuckled.

'_Jerk_,' Sam replied.

The searing agony that tormented him had slipped away and Dean opened his eyes to find the Demon standing a few feet away. Paradise also slipped away. The Demon's eyes were wide and hungry, through his pain the warrior stared back at the demon contemptuously.

The room was brightly lit but he could see no sign of a light source. _'It's a cave, but I don't know how I got here,_' Dean answered slowly.

Anger at his creatures' failure to kill the hunter was swept away. The Demon stared, craving the power he saw displayed before him. It was so close; he could feel it pulsing around him. He knew it was deceptive, enticing him; it was a deadly promise, one he could not yet obtain. Soon he told himself, soon! His captive would live a few hours longer. He needed to find the older hunter.

With a flick of his hand sent his Dean flying. The link between brothers was severed. The black abyss had claimed the warrior once again.

Sam lay in Mick's arms sobbing quietly. When he could trust his voice Sam whispered his fears. "He's dying Mick. I can fell him slipping away. I have to find him now. He said my dad's been attacked."

Across the room the door quietly clicked open. John started in surprise to hear his son's words.

His face was scraped and covered in soot, but John Winchester was whole. "I'm here Sam, I'm fine," he told his son quickly. "What happened?"

"I don't know," the young man's quavering voice answered. "Dean was in terrible pain dad, screaming, then he was just gone."

"He's alive Sam, and he'll stay that way until we get there, you hear me, we'll get him back," John growled.

A vicious headache was pounding in his skull. The world was a spinning kaleidoscope of color. He felt the darkness rising around him. Helping hands pulled him to his feet. Sam swayed dangerously before he collapsed unconscious into his father's arms.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit, Sammy," the older man swore softly. Gently lifting his son, John carried him to the couch and set him down. Calloused fingers pushed damp hair from a sweaty forehead. John cared; he just didn't know how to say it.

"We'll find him Sam, we'll find him and bring him home!"

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_**Please R & R, its nice to know that my hard work is appreciated. Huggers**_


	13. Chapter 13 Strength Revealed

**_Ok, so I got a little carried away with this one, but that is where the story led me so there I went. Please tell me how you feel about it. _**

**Chapter 13 Strength revealed**

He slept for three hours, his father by his side. Sam groaned as he rose back to consciousness, his headache down to a manageable dull roar.

"Welcome back sleeping beauty," his father joked.

Sitting up Sam slid his legs over the side of the couch and reached to rub his aching temples. "How long," Sam croaked.

"Three hours."

"Too long," Sam murmured, "Dean doesn't have that kind of time, you should have woken me up."

"He needs you strong Sam, he needs you whole and in one piece. You're a damn wreck. You go in there like this and none of us will come out alive."

Sam stood up glaring angrily at his father. He wanted to scream at him, tell him he was wrong.

John had watched his son sleep. His dreams had been chaotic and full of turmoil. He needed his son strong and focused for the battle they would soon face. He hated doing it but he had to make Sam angry. His well chosen words had done just that.

Taking a deep breath Sam pulled himself up. "Just tell me what you want me to do," Sam growled.

It was Mick who spoke, breaking the tension that flared between father and son. "We know the best place to get this done is the fraternity house. We also know Balthazar's creatures are there. What we don't know is where the demon is or the cave Dean spoke of. They could be a block down the road, half a world away or on another plane. My guess is he's close. He won't want to expend too much energy moving from one plane to another."

Moving to the table Mick pulled a rolled up blueprint from a box on the floor. "This is the layout of the fraternity house. The place had a huge basement that extended farther out from the walls of the house, according to this its just one huge room with metal pillars at twenty foot intervals down the middle. There were two entrances, one from inside the house, where Mike saw the ghouls enter. A second entrance was built inside the garage on the east side of the building. The garage is intact but we don't know the state of the passageway. It may have collapsed during the fire for all we know."

"Mike, John our job is distraction and kill as many of the bastards as you can. Above all protect Sam."

"Sam me boy, it's your job to send this demon back to hell. You have his name you have his symbol. If we don't find the original entry point you will have to create a new one. I've drawn it for you," Mick stated, "Memorize it!"

Mick grumbled. "This damn demon is clever and ruthless. If we miss something it could be deadly for all of us."

The four men continued to discuss the upcoming battle.

It was John who signaled a time to go. "We've got three hours until sunset. The ghouls are weaker during the day and our best shot at this is to strike now.

Three heads nodded their ascent. Gathering their gear John took Mick aside. "You're not going in Mick and I don't have to tell you why."

Mick growled ready to protest. Yeah he knew why, he had grown old, out of practice and would slow them down, his bum leg wouldn't hold up under a full scale assault. Growling beneath his breath he nodded – reluctantly.

"We'll need you outside, in case we have to make a quick getaway."

Sam stood alone at the table fingering the paper Mick had given him. It was already committed to memory, but something was missing, he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. They seemed to have all the pieces, the demon's name, his place of origin and the key that would send him back – what could be missing?

Pulling some of Mick's books off the shelf he thumbed through them hoping to find something on Balthazar. Sam studied the information hoping what he'd found was the missing piece jotting things down on a piece of paper.

John almost laughed as he handed the sheriff the machete. Mike held it in front of him, his eyes looking at the blade then back to John in confusion.

"What exactly is this," Mike asked curiously.

"Your weapon of choice," John told him. "You have two choices, lop their heads off or set them on fire. I personally prefer lopping."

"Did someone forget to tell me something," Mike asked in confusion.

John sighed, "What you will be facing as far as we can tell is a ghoul. They hunt in packs, they don't like the light and they will use your own fear against you."

"Fear, How"

"These creatures feed on it and project it back. It's a feeling that weakens their victims. The fear is what will get you killed," John explained. "It will hit you like a Mack truck. You have to get past it, understand what's happening. Be afraid but don't let it overwhelm you."

Mike nodded, 'Fear, something he'd faced more than once as a Special Forces Operative. He'd faced death and dangerous situations and never let his fear drive him, he used it to keep him alert and prepared. His fear had saved his life a couple of time. '_Or maybe it was paranoia_,' he chuckled silently.

"Time we be hitting the road," Mick called.

John turned to his son and saw what he needed to see. Determination and something else John couldn't read, but he was damn proud of the boy. He'd grown up; pretty soon Sam wouldn't need him anymore. He was saddened by the thought.

Across town the demon paced his little cave. He summoned his creatures taking the offensive he sent them hunting. The creatures slithered off into the shadows seeking the hunter.

A hard rain had washed the streets clean of the ashes. But John's scent still filled the air. They followed it sticking to the shadows and avoiding the light. Those who chanced to see them saw only a gray mist floating through the air. They didn't believe therefore they didn't see – at least that's what they told themselves.

oooOOOooo

The hunters parked down the street from the fraternity house their gear stored their minds and bodies ready. Through the shadows they made their way to the house. Watching from a small hollow beside the garage they waited. Nothing moved, even the air was still and silent.

John made the first move, Mike close on his heels as they crossed a small clearing before entering the garage. The building would have housed three large cars in its day. Half of it was a charred ruin but lent them cover as they searched for the doorway. An old table blocked the door set in the floor. Silently they lifted it out of the way.

An old oil can on the floor greased the rusted hinges. The heavy door was slowly lifted, only once did the hunters catch their breath going still as metal scraped on metal and broke the hushed silence of the garage. They moved quickly after that, down the steps toward the basement.

The way was clear, not a single creature was in evidence. Why, John asked himself? Where they in the wrong place? Had the demon beat them at their own game?

It didn't matter; they still had a job to do. They could open a gate anywhere and if they – no Sam was strong enough he could send him back to the hell from whence he came. He didn't want to think about his other son, or what he might be suffering at the Demon's hands. He couldn't, or he would come apart as Sam had nearly done.

The corridor went straight ending with a charred doorway with broken hinges. Silence again greeted them.

Had Balthazar fled, or had he ever been here?

Dimly lit with candles the floor of the big room, the basement was dark and foreboding. John slipped through the broken door the machete in his hand. Sam came through next Mike a few steps behind.

Using hand signals John sent Sam to the center of the room and Mike to guard the other entrance. They stood ready should the ghouls or even the demon himself come calling.

The floor was covered in dust and debris. On hands and knees Sam hunted for the gate that would tell them where Balthazar had entered their world.

Precious minutes were spent before Sam found the burnt writing on the floor. "It's here" he whispered. "I need help clearing the debris," he whispered.

Together Mike and Sam cleared the floor – a few feet away John stood guard.

When the area was cleared Sam stood up matching the symbols burned into the concrete with the image in his mind. Taking the salt container from his pack, Sam followed the design. He hissed when he saw the breaks in the lines and knew how the demon had been allowed to cross over. Following the lines and symbols Sam worked quickly filling in the holes and breaks. The demon would not escape the trap this time.

A few miles away the ghouls had followed John's scent only to loose it near a small pond. The trail was gone, the hunter cleverer than the demon had thought. Belathauzer call his creatures back.

"Hurry son," John whispered. The hairs were rising on the back of his neck; the battle would soon be joined.

"Sam," John hissed?

"Their coming," Mike warned. He felt it too, the fear rising inside him. It was choking him, his mind flayed by the emotions. Sucking in a deep breath he looked at his partner.

John saw the fear, the indecision. "Don't let it beat you," the hunter growled.

He couldn't let it beat him. Mike did his best to tamp down the fear, but he could feel it, he wanted to run. He didn't!

The ghouls came from both directions, six of them. Caught by surprise two of them lost their heads before they snapped to attack.

Taking a deep breath Sam started the chant calling Balthazar to his reckoning. He knelt beside the circle, the open book in hands the words easily flowing from his lips. He called the demon's name. The air around him was charged with electricity and something more, he couldn't name it but it stood ready - waiting – expectant.

oooOOOooo

He felt a stirring in the air, a name whispered on the wind. He laughed, they could not hold him. Yet he could not still the shiver that coursed down his spine.

oooOOOooo

Sam's voice was stronger this time, the words familiar, a part of him. A second name - Belathazar was chanted into the wind. A second call went out. This time it was more persuasive.

At the far side of the room a battle was raging. Back to back they stood John and Mike, two lone hunters against six of the gray ghouls. Their master had called, they answered. Blades were razor sharp and flew in intricate patterns around them. In the hunters other hand they held a lighted torch. For each ghoul they killed a pile of ash followed.

On the ground four of the ghastly creatures writhed in agony. Their bodies bloodied or burn beyond recognition. Several more of the deadly creature heeded their master's call. Gliding down the steps they circled their prey.

The hunters were tiring, their muscles sore. They too sported many deep wounds inflicted by the ghoul's razor sharp claws.

Outside several more of the gray creatures floated toward the back entrance. Mick had brought a little present of his own. Disobeying John's directive to stay in the car he held his new toy in his hands and waited.

Three of they gray creatures ventured too close. The tiny flame at the end of the pipe roared to life. Fire spewed from Mick's hands engulfing the creatures. Their eerie cries of anguish filled the night. In less than a minute their cries were silenced, the flame thrower had done its work. Three piles of ash littered the ground.

oooOOOooo

Belathauzer rose to his feet, for the second time the wind whispered a name. He turned facing the wall his hands coming up in denial. It beat at him pounding into his skull. A roar of hatred filled his heart. A blue eyed boy crowed in delight.

oooOOOooo

"Sam," John screamed, "You have to finish it now."

Mike slipped on his own blood, falling to one knee his body burning with exhaustion. The machete came up protecting his neck from razor sharp claws.

John swung around and hauled him to his feet his face grim and unyielding as he rushed back to the fray. His shoulder burned with pain, his lungs were heaving in his chest gasping for air. He couldn't stop, not yet.

For the third time Sam started the chant. Latin, old and eloquent tore through the night calling a name.

oooOOOooo

Belathauzer felt the tug of betrayal. They knew his name, his real name. He couldn't stop himself from answering the call. He fought it with all his might, but the words were powerful, tearing into his mind the voice resolute. He had no choice but obey.

Harsh fingers wrapped around the unconscious hunter's arm digging deep. Dragging the body of his captive behind him the demon answered the call. Rage flowed through him, and he sent out a thought, calling his minions to his side.

oooOOOooo

In the dark dank basement of the fraternity house a deadly battle raged.

Sam felt the air around him shift as the dark lord stepped into the room. His voice wavered when he saw his brother.

John Winchester heard it, his voice boomed into the night. "Don't stop Sam, not for a second."

The familiar voice steadied him and Sam relentlessly continued the chanting ritual.

The demon walked calmly through the door an evil smile on his face. Beneath the surface he fought the compulsion his movements jerky and unsure as he cross the room to stand at the edge of the circle facing his nemesis.

His breath caught in his throat. The figure kneeling in front of him was the other half. His aura was silvery blue and strong, resolute in his desire to destroy the creature that had invaded his world and stolen his brother.

A plan formed in the demon's mind. He could see a crack already forming in the center of the circle. He would stop the Seer even if it took the last breath in his stolen body.

He released his captive dropping him near the circle.

Dean's body fell to the floor his left arm breaking the line of the circle.

The pull of the portal was strong but he fought hard. He attacked; fire flew from his lips to circle the seer.

Sam did not waiver again. Dean was here, and he could see the slight rise and fall of his brother's chest. He lived.

Centering himself he pictured the walls of Vivian's house in his mind retreating to the quiet meadow, wildflowers swayed softly in the breeze. A few feet away a white tailed deer and her fawn grazed on the lush grass. A small creek on the far side of the meadow babbled soothingly over the pebbles as it wound its way through the valley. It was quiet and peaceful and that is where Sam went. Here he could maintain control. The chant continued.

A fiery burst of heat surrounded him pushing against his mind. The heat washed over his face. He didn't stop the chant but allowed the energy to flow away into the babbling stream behind it.

The aura surrounding him flared brightly repelling the attack. The fire flowed over him dissipating harmlessly into the air. Conscious of his father and Mike behind him Sam did he damnest to channel the flames to the sides. Sending it back to the demon might injure Dean.

Sharp bolts of black lightening hammered at his mind. Sam held steady but he didn't know if he could survive the onslaught for much longer. It was then that Vivian's first lesson came back to him. He had to take the offensive, put the demon on the defense and hammer at his strength. Sam had to drain the demon's power and energy away. If he was tired, so was the demon, or at least that's what the young Seer hoped.

The next round of attack struck and Sam bowed his shields inward flexing them like a tree blowing in the wind. He took a deep breath and blew out fast. The black lightening hit Sam's mind and changed. Springing outward black barbs became crystal shards and were sent flying back at his attacker.

The demon screamed in pain and anger when his own weapons were turned against him. Life had been too easy of late, he had grown lazy. The Dark Lord shifted right avoiding all of the darts, but one. An agonizing scream was ripped from his throat as the bolt tore into his shoulder. The crystal's energy flowed through him forcing him back out of the body. Fiercely cold it hammered at him expanding and forcing him to retreat.

The call of the dark abyss was relentless and the demon knew he would have to answer. He slipped into the black mist and rose into the air. He hadn't counted on the Seer's strength; he hadn't counted on the hunters' determination. He'd underestimated his quarry! He screamed in frustration.

Behind him the Warrior took a deep breath and rose up from the darkness. "_Finish it Sam_," Dean whispered.

The voice in Sam's head was weak but just hearing it sent a surge of joy pumping through the young hunter. His voice roared through the room filled with a magic not even the strongest of demons could have thwarted. The portal in the center of the circle split apart, beckoning Belathauzer home.

The demon had no choice. He did not fear it but his vindictive heart knew of only one way to strike at his nemesis. High in the air above the portal the body of a young man convulsed as the demon was driven out. The body spun in a widening circle faster and faster until it was thrown out and down to the cold concrete floor. The dark demon, its ebony tendrils quivering beneath the onslaught was driven down toward the center of the circle. A harsh laughter escaped it as a black claw wrapped around the warrior's arm and dragged him into the circle and down into hell.

Even without the Seer, the Warrior held enormous power buried inside, and Belathauzer would have it. He crowed in triumph.

Sam sagged as the last few words flowing from his lips. The demon was gone, back to hell. Weary eyes fluttered open searching for his brother. His mind reeled in terror when he caught sight of Dean clutched in the demon's snare.

Without thinking the young Seer leaped from his place on the floor into the circle. Wrapping both arms around his brother's chest he held on tight. He pulled, but could not stop the unrelenting force that dragged them down.

John Winchester heard his son's frantic call. He could only stare in horror when both boys slipped through the hole and disappeared following Balthazar back into hell.

With an unforgiving roar the gateway closed behind them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_**Hey I just had to do it, but what shall I do with them now – she asks?**_

_**Evil laugh erupts into the room – Please R & R. Huggers**_


	14. Chapter 14 Hellbound

**Chapter 14 Hellbound**

He felt weightless and disembodied as he fell through the swirling black mist. Clutched close to his chest he held his brother tight. He didn't know how long it took, time seemed to stop. The world around him a huge void his eyes could not penetrate. For long moments he walked through his darkest memories. Jessica flowed through his mind, her face hurt and accusing. Memories old and new battered at him he felt lost and alone until the man in his arms stirred to life. It was his brother that saved him once again, anchoring his mind and returning him to sanity.

With a hard jolt they came to rest. Sam lay on his back Dean sprawled on top of him. The black mist around them dissipated. A bright light exploded into the darkness. Belathauzer screamed in agony and slithered away.

"Sammy," a croaking voice whispered. He groaned as feeling returned.

"I've got you Dean," Sam cried. "I've got you," and wrapped his arms tighter around his brothers body.

The demon stood up on cloven hooves. His dark form outlined in the hunters glowing light. Black scales covered his hideously deformed body. Wide shoulders split and broke apart; two heads rose up to stare at his quarry. In the center of each forehead a twisted horn spiraled upward. His eyes were fiery red and seething with hatred. The demon glared at the brothers. Lips curled menacingly as he paced the hot rocky ground. One brother he could easily have overwhelmed, but two, together might be an invincible force, beyond his dominion. Unless?

Time was his only hope now. He needed them exhausted, confused, it was the only way he would win.

Arms outstretched he lifted his head and roared his command, summoning the dark denizens of hell to his side.

Sam shivered as the spine-chilling howl echoed around them. Everywhere he looked, everything he saw was stark and blackened. Lava swirled in deep pits and bubbling and flowing through the rocky crevices. The sky blazed with a hundred shades of red, orange and yellow. Blistering heat surrounded them. By some miracle the brothers held it at bay.

The plateau on which they sat was cool and comfortable bellying the scorched landscape around them.

Fear clutching at Sam's heart as he looked around. Belathauzer had dragged them down with him as he tumbled back into hell.

They were in hell, or something very much resembling it.

Dean stirred but didn't open his eyes.

The young hunter could feel his brother's body shivering in his arms. To Sam's eyes Dean's body was one massive bruise. The left side of his face was scraped and bloody, his eye swollen. His clothes were torn and ragged, and Sam could see the deep cuts beneath.

The young hunter closed his eyes and rested his head on top of his brothers. They were together that's all that mattered. He couldn't loose him not now!

Dean stirred trying to ease the pain. He took a breath and shuddered before opening his eyes. He blinked owlishly trying to clear the haze that surrounded him. "Sam," he whispered again.

"I'm right here Dean," the young hunter whispered. He heard Dean hiss as he tightened his hold. Immediately easing his grip but he didn't let go.

Fire burned in is his veins. The pain pounded at him, relentless in its assault. Dean tilted his head to look around, amazed and intrigued by what he saw. His brother's face swam into view and he winked.

A small smile tilted Sam's lips.

Dean saw more than Sam wanted him to see. His little brother was holding his own but there was fear in his eyes. Gathering his strength - he had to be strong, Sam needed him. He took a deep breath. Even to him his voice sounded weak and fragile. He groaned silently. "So what have you gotten us into now?"

Sam smiled, but his heart was breaking. Dean was too weak, he looked awful. His skin was pale, his lips nearly blue. He had to be strong - Dean needed him. His words were softly whispered but there was an edge of amusement to them. "It wasn't me this time big brother. I was trying to rescue you and bam here we are."

"Bam," Dean mumbled, "What exactly does bam mean?"

"It means we landed in hell."

"Oh," Dean marveled.

"Hell," he groaned a few seconds later, "Fire and brimstone, demons, the devil, that hell?"

Sam chuckled, "Uhhh, yeah, that would be the place."

"Well we shouldn't have any trouble finding something to kill." Dean quipped. He was trying hard not to think about it so he covered his fear with mocking wisecrack.

"Will you quit fooling around and help me figure out how to get us out of this little predicament," Sam snapped.

Dean voice wavered asking, "How did we get here Sam?"

"We were exorcising the demon, sending him back to hell. It worked, except he managed to drag you in with him."

"You decided to come along for the ride?"

Sam chuckled falling into Dean's trap. "I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Dean blinked, his breath caught in his throat as he saw the landscape come alive. "Well I think the fun has arrived." Lifting his hand he pointed at the misshapen bodies closing in around them.

Dean could feel his body growing numb, shock was setting in. He did his best to hide it as he chuckled, "So College Boy, what are the odds of us surviving this?"

Sam couldn't help it, he knew what his idiot brother was doing and he decided laughing or smiling in the face of death was what any sane man would do if they had the choice. "Well Pool Boy, I calculate the odds are bout one in two hundred, but if you count the little specks coming over the horizon about a mile away – its more like one in a thousand."

"Pool boy," Dean choked. "I'll take that as a compliment, thank you."

Sam could only laugh.

Something else was arriving with them, little balls of light drifted into view. They hovered above the hunters drawn by the power the brothers brought with them, drawn by the shimmering white light that surrounded Warrior and Seer. It was the power of hope – a beacon to the hopeless caught in the darkest of despair.

"Are these the good guys, coming to the rescue, or the hangers on, here to enjoy the slaughter," Dean hissed.

"Good question," Sam whispered. "Look Dean," Sam whispered. "It's like there are little people inside."

Dean looked and saw what Sam was talking about. Little people, he could see their faces, they seemed so lost and alone. Shaking himself of the maudlin thoughts he asked, "Have you seen Dog Breath?" He could hear the trembling in his voice and was glad that Sam was preoccupied with the coming battle.

"Dog Breath," Sam asked in confusion.

"Ahh Sam, your supposed to know these things, I thought you could read my mind, figure out what I'm thinking."

Sam laughed again, "Dog Breath equals Belathauzer I take it."

"I like Dog Breath better, it just kinda rolls off the tongue?"

"Sure Dean," Sam murmured.

"Playtime's over Sammy," Dean rumbled as he watched more of the creatures stumble across the rocky ground. He could feel his body growing numb. His strength ebbing away, time was running out. "I don't suppose you brought a shotgun or two when you leaped into the hell hole after me."

"Sorry," Sam muttered.

"Shit," he cried a few seconds later, "No shotgun but I did bring your favorite Glock." One hand stayed firmly in place around Dean while the other reached around to pull the weapon from the waistband of his pants at the middle of his back. "Ta da," he crowed as he handed it to Dean.

"Alright, this ought to keep us alive a minute or two longer," he grumbled. Extra mags," the hunter asked?

"Two," Sam replied setting both of them down on the ground beside Dean.

He took the weapon with his left hand and for the first time Sam noticed the awkward angle of his brothers right shoulder. It was either broken or badly dislocated. He sighed again, wishing he could do something to relieve his brother's pain.

Closing his eyes he reached out and touched Dean's mind.

"Stop it Sam" Dean growled. "I don't need you poking around in the closet. Too much dirty laundry," he grumbled. "Save your strength, you're going to need it." In truth Dean didn't want his little brother to see how far gone he was. Dean somehow sensed his wasn't going to make it through this battle.

"I can help you," Sam snapped.

"Sam," Dean warned.

"Stubborn jerk," Sam snarled.

"Damn straight bitch," Dean snarled back.


	15. Chapter 15 Keeping the Faith

**_Hey all, I'm working on getting our boys back home. I'm glad you like the story so far. HOPE you'll keep reading._**

**Chapter 15 Keeping the Faith**

John dropped to his knees the machete falling from numb fingers as he stared at the place where his son's should have been. They were gone! A gut wrenching sob tore through him. "Sam, Dean," he cried. Scrambling to his feet he tore across the room to stand over the demon's gate.

Mike finished off the last of the ghouls before he moved to stand beside the broken hunter.

"He took them," John murmured. "He took my sons."

"Well open the damn door and get them back," Mike growled.

Dazed eyes glanced up but he shook his head in denial, "I can't."

A few feet away the familiar figure they knew to be Balthazar stirred to life.

Gabriel groaned, his body protested the movement. He was bruised and torn by the battle the demon had raged against Sam. A crystalline dart protruded from his shoulder, the barb that had driven the demon from his body and he was grateful. He reached up, stifling a cry as he pulled it from his shoulder. In his hand the crystal shard disintegrated, turning to ash. He let it fall through his fingers to the cold concrete beside him.

Pulling a knife from the sheath at his hip John screamed and launched himself at the figure on the floor. The knife slashed downward aiming for the creature's heart.

His eyes went wide with shock. His hand stopped mere inches from the heaving chest. Sapphire eyes stared up at the hunter. Sapphire eyes not black waited for the hunters' judgment

Resigned to his fate Gabriel looked at the hunter with understanding. He had seen death over and over again in the last year. He had even wished for it. The demon had enjoyed taunting him with the destruction of others. If this man needed his death, he would give it to him gladly - if it would help.

The blade in John Winchesters hand would end the nightmares.

John gasped in horror at what he saw and had almost done. Dropping the knife he stumbled away and fell to his knees. He would not, could not take his rage and anger out on an innocent man. The face may have been the same, but the consciousness behind it was not. The Demon was gone.

He stared at the blackened circle in bleak despair. Everything he lived for was gone. His son's had been taken. Tears of pain coursed down his cheeks.

Mike knelt down beside Gabriel staring into the blue eyes. A gentle hand reached to check the wound in his shoulder. "And you would be?"

"Gabriel," the young man answered.

Mike hissed when he saw the deep puncture. Tearing some strips off his shirt he wadded it up and pressed it against the wound.

Gabriel groaned as the pain sliced through him.

A few seconds later Mike sighed, "I don't suppose you know anything about opening a doorway to hell do you," He was tired and feeling a little slap happy? His body ached with a myriad of cuts and bruises and his mind was in overload.

For the first time Gabriel noticed the two missing hunters. Belathauzer had promised he would have them and now he did. Gabriel slowly rose to his feet, standing where a boy had stood only a year ago. That boy was gone, something darker, and more cunning stood in his place. A Seeker – a Dark Hunter was born, powerful and deadly, honed by the darkness his body had harbored.

His voice low and urgent, called the hunters to his side. "We don't have much time. Belathauzer wants them and he won't waste much time wearing them down."

"Time to do what," Mike grumbled.

"Open that doorway to hell," Gabriel grinned.

"I need salt and I need to know their names," he demanded.

John spun to face them, "What are you doing," he growled.

Gabriel turned to face the hunter raising himself to his full height. "I'm going to get your son's back.

"That black hearted bastard left his memories behind. I'll carry them til the day I die, I know how to open a gate," Gabriel murmured. "He also taught me a few other things. Like how to tap the latent power that surrounds us. If I can open the door I can bring them home. Its like making a phone call, all I have to do is make the connection and hope someone is on the other side to answer."

"You need a symbol to draw them back," John whispered. His heart was pounding in his chest, hope was riding him hard, but he knew better than to wish for something that was impossible.

"I saw it in the air above the gate when Belathauzer was sent through the portal, Seer and Warrior together. Two brothers living as one, their souls are connected. It was an eye with crossed swords behind it. One cannot live without the other," Gabriel told him softly.

John stared at the tall figure, his eyes wary. He heard the man's words. He had known for a long time how much his boy's needed each other. The words didn't surprise him as much as they should have.

Sapphire eyes bore into his soul asking for his trust. He had no choice, he wanted his sons back.

Three hands went quickly to work clearing an area of the floor upon which the new gate would be opened. Salt spread in an intricate design that mirrored the brother's symbol. Symbols of power and protection surrounded it. The gate was ready.

Gabriel left a small opening near the bottom of the eye, warning the hunters, "If anything except the Warrior and the Seer come through you have to close the symbol."

Both men nodded, they climbed to their feet and stepped back.

He stood in the center of the symbol and raised his arms, wincing as the wound in his shoulder flared painfully. Gabriel took a deep breath. Closing his eyes he opened his mind. Outside in the air above the fraternity house a storm gathered. He trilled a tune calling the energy to him. Lightening flashed across the sky tearing through the house and striking the floor behind him.

John and Mike were thrown to the floor. Grumbling beneath their breath.

Gabriel winced mumbling, "Sorry."

Power flowed through him calling into the depths of hell. He wove the brothers' symbol in the air and called their names. A swirling misty vortex opened around him. He called again, hoping for an answer.

_I know this one was kinda short, just trying to keep you all in suspense. LOL _

_It will be over soon, I promise. Huggers_


	16. Chapter 16 Fury Unleashed

**_Don't hate me for this, I'm trying to fix it, I promise._**

**Chapter 16** **Fury unleashed**

The Glock fit comfortably in his left hand, though his arm shook with the weight of it. He bit back a cry his body shaking with the effort as he tried to raise his right arm. It was useless and the rest of his body was growing numb. Mind and heart knew he had very little time left.

A dozen of the creatures leaped at the brothers. The Glock came up and Dean squeezed the trigger.

Sam closed his eyes surprised that the creatures and the shot Dean had fired seem to be moving in slow motion. Taking a breath he exhaled a small puff, his minds eye on the bullet his brother had fired.

The tiny pellet exploded into a thousand pieces. Silvery shards tore through the charging creatures tearing them apart.

"Did you do that," Dean whispered in awe.

"No," Sam answered, "We did that."

"Think we can do it again," the warrior whispered?

"I'm game if you are," Sam grinned.

They were coming from all side now, easy targets for the Warrior and the Seer, but there were too many and some managed to get through, to batter at the shield surrounding them. Sam was tiring, energy waning.

Dean was past exhaustion when the creatures finally retreated in defeat.

Hundreds of the dark beasts lay dead but more were on the way. The brothers could seem them on the horizon.

Sam slumped back against the rocks. In his arms Dean took a deep shuddering breath the Glock falling to the ground. He lay in the comfort of his brother's arms. He need those arms around him, needed the feel of his brother beside him. "You're a damn good brother Sammy," the young Warrior whispered hoarsely.

His voice was weaker than Sam had ever heard and fear speared his heart. "Don't you leave me Dean," he cried. "Don't you dare leave me!"

He had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he needed to tell his little brother, but all he could manage was, "Love you Sammy." Time had run out, his only regret was leaving Sam to face the darkness alone.

His eyes closed one final time. His head fell sideways to rest in the hollow of his brother's shoulder. One final breath before his heart and lungs stilled.

"No Dean, no," a young Sammy cried. Trembling fingers reached for the pulse at his brother's neck. It was silent beneath his touch.

Gathering his brother close he hugged him tight, rocking back and forth. Pain, like nothing he had ever known welled up inside him. He had failed his brother, failed to save him, failed to bring him safely home.

His heart was torn apart. Something inside him broke apart. The core that kept him whole was split asunder half of him was gone forever. He screamed his pain, everything that he was shattered into the darkness.

Power, icy cold exploded around him. He was a raging storm out of control racing across the landscape. Like a deadly virus, pure and unfettered he swept away everything in his path. Everything that could walk, crawl, fly or slither within a thousand miles was caught and ripped to shreds. Only the shimmering white globes remained. Even they shook under the onslaught of power.

Belathauzer had done the one thing he had sworn to do. Unleash the power that lay deep in the brothers.

He tried desperately to control it as it whirled around him. He tried to reel it in and wrap it around him. He couldn't. He had unleashed the one power he could never rule – the power of grief. He didn't feel it, couldn't understand it. He had no control over it.

Sam's pain lifted the Demon up and spun him around tearing at him, wave after wave of sheer unrelenting grief stabbed through him.

When Sam's scream ended the Dark Lord was a thousand miles away. A lump of flesh was all that remained. The battle was finished.

All around him the shimmering globes gathered close.

The young hunter slumped down across his dead brother's body and wept.

_I hope you'll stick with it, its not over til the fat lady sings. Last chapter will be posted tomorrow. _


	17. Chapter 17 Going Home

**_I agonized over this chapter for over a week, wrote and rewrote it about five times. I didn't really mean to kill Dean off – it just happened that way. Do you think I should write an epilogue for this? Does anyone think I should bring Gabriel back somewhere down the line?_**

**_I have another fic started. It's definitely more lighthearted than this one. I'll prolly post it in a week or so when I get a few more pages done. _**

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**Chapter 17 Going home**

He didn't know how long he lay there, he did not care. He could not stop the tears from falling. He only knew his heart was broken.

Small tiny glowing balls of light hovered around him. He saw them, felt them, he ignored them. There was nothing left inside, no feelings, the pain had been washed away, all that was left was the bleakness of his sorrow.

The call was a dull ache in his mind, this too Sam ignored.

oooOOOooo

In a different place a lone hunter stood. Gabriel's arms dropped to his side. A cry of despair was torn from his lips. Tears streaked his cheeks. His head came up to capture John's. "He will not answer," Gabriel cried.

How did he tell a father one of his son's was dead? He had seen the final battle called to them, but he could not reach them. It was too late. The Warrior was dead, the Seer buried in pain and grief.

He wondered if Belathauzer had won after all.

The Seer had heard the call - he would not answer. Without his brother he couldn't go home.

"Try again," Mike told him. "Make them answer."

Turning to John, "He won't listen to me, but he might listen to you." Gabriel stepped into the circle. Motioning to John he said. "I need you here, in front of me."

John stepped into the circle and positioned himself in front of Gabriel. He would travel through the gates of hell to save his son's. He was about to do just that.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath, raise your arms high, when I tell you call Sam's name. You'll feel the shock as the energy rushed though you. Don't move, just breath," Gabriel warned him.

Wrapping his arms around John, Gabriel crossed both hands over the hunter's heart. The room stilled, the power building as Gabriel called the energy to him. Lightening was pulled from the sky to strike the floor in front them.

Mike was prepared this time. He sat in the corner of the room his hands clapped over his ears, waiting.

A shock of electricity poured through Gabriel and wrapped around John opening the gate once again.

The hunter gasped as the energy flowed through him. It was like a wild storm raging inside him. Every nerve in his body erupted. His chest grew tight and he could barely draw breath. John Winchester became the flame that would light the way home.

Locked together Hunter and Seeker, Gabriel sent his essence through the gate. He knew where to look, saw the dead creatures lying everywhere. The Seer's aura was a beacon of light in the darkness. He called Sam's name, but again the Seer did not answer

Sam's tears were wild and uncontrollable. There was a hole inside him, a void that only one person could fill and he was gone.

oooOOOooo

"_Call Sam now," _a disembodied voice whispered in John's mind.

A roar of energy coursed through the hunter, he called his son's name coaxing him home. "_Sam_," he called, once, twice, three times he called with no response.

"_Sam dammit answer me_," he screamed. "_Get your ass back here now_!"

The angry urgent words penetrated Sam's lethargy. Reluctantly he answered the call.

John heard the faint whisper caress his mind. Bright and shining his soul led them through the darkness toward home.

The tiny glowing balls circled the two brothers following them into the air. A vortex of swirling mist circled them pushing them higher and higher.

Two brothers locked together swirling wildly in the dark mist, faster and faster , higher and higher. Belathauzer was gone, the dark memories of Jessica with him. Only his failure and guilt assaulted the Seer.

John and Gabriel's call lifted the brothers higher until they were spinning out of control before bursting through the gate, the hunters were thrown out of the circle and across the room. Chest's heaving they lay on the cold concrete floor. The task was done, the brothers were home.

John sat up his eyes drinking in the sight of his son's once more. "Sam, Dean" he cried, but neither boy answered. On hands and knees he crawled to their side. He stopped in shock his hands outstretched.

Dean laid cradled in his brother's arms his body still and lifeless.

Sam held his brother close his mind closed to everything around him. He didn't know he was home, didn't hear his father calling his name. He was lost, ready to give up and follow his brother. '_I'm sorry Dean, I'm so sorry_,' he cried over and over again.

The air in the burned out basement grew still. A golden mist rose from the lifeless body of the Warrior. His soul was seeking a way out. It flitted from side to side unsure which direction to take. It seemed lost and disoriented unable to find the right path.

Gabriel stared at the mist watching it rise up. He needed to close the gate. On hands and knees he crawled to the gate pulling some salt from his pocket

A sharp cry roared into the room, "**_No Seeker, the gate must remain open_**!"

Gabriel stopped his eyes widened in awe when he saw the tiny petite – ethereal figure standing a few feet from the open gate.

Her hand came up to caress the boy's face tears coursed down her cheeks as she looked at him. He had suffered so much and survived the darkness. He was changed; never again would he be the carefree boy of a year ago. Gabriel had become one of the dark creatures' deadliest enemies, a Seeker.

Vivian turned slightly and stood in the center of the room blocking the golden figure coming across the room.

"**_And where do you think you're going young man_**," Vivian asked.

The golden mist stopped, Dean ignored the question but looked at the shadowy figure in puzzlement. "**_Do I know you_**," he asked rudely?"

Vivian chuckled. "**_In a way_**," she whispered. "**_I helped a friend of yours find her way home_**."

It all came back in a rush, Dean hissed, tears filled his eyes as he remembered the scene in the warehouse. "**_Beth_**," he choked out.

"**_She's safe now. He can never hurt her again, but what about you_**," she whispered. "**_Where do you think you're going_**?"

Dean stared at her for a moment, confusion warred with mischief. Mischief won out. "**_I've been to hell, just thought I'd try the other direction for a while_**," Dean replied with an impish grin.

Vivian laughed, "**_And what makes you think you belong there_**."

Dean turned serious, his expression hurt and confused. "**_I can't stay here_**," he whispered through the tears.

"**_You can't leave either, he needs you_**," she whispered urgently.

"**_Who dad_**," Dean scoffed. "**_He doesn't need me, never has_**."

Vivian shook her head. "**_Don't make me beat your butt young man_**," she scolded.

Dean lifted his head and turned away. It hurt, to admit what he was feeling, his voice cracked as he spoke "**_Sammy doesn't need me. He wants Stanford, a normal life. I can't give him that_**!"

"**_Do you really think that's what he wants from you?_** **_Look at him Dean_**," she cajoled. "**_See him, really see him_**."

Slowly Dean turned to face them - father and brother. John Winchester sat beside Sam, calling his youngest son's name. One hand on his dead son's forehead the other on his younger son's shoulder.

Sammy never moved, never answered just lay across the floor his arms wrapped around his brother's body - his body, Dean mussed silently.

"**_He thinks he failed you. If you leave him now, he is lost_**."

Dean snorted in disgust, "**_How the hell did he fail me_**?"

"**_He couldn't bring you home." _**

"**_He will follow you Dean, wherever you go whatever you do, he will follow. If you leave this world so will Sam_**."

"**_Well that's just damn stupid_**," Dean snarled. He took a step back then two, drawn by something he couldn't define. '**_Did Sammy need him, really need him_**,' he asked himself?

What he saw tore him apart. Sammy's grief was almost unbearable to see. He had to do something. The pull to return was strong and Dean willingly, gratefully answered the call. The golden form once again grew misty and floated quickly back. There was no hesitation this time. The golden mist swirled above the prone figures and dropped back into place.

Sam sat in the center of the circle Dean held tightly in his arms. The heartache and pain has closed him off from reality. He didn't hear, didn't see anyone or anything going on around him. He couldn't feel, he was numb in body and soul. Grief was consuming him.

He didn't register his father's touch on his shoulder or hear the anguished words as John tried to console him. Sam was lost, his anchor broken he was drifting away. All he wanted to do was lay down and rest - forever. Without Dean he didn't think he could survive. His brother had always been there for him, protecting him, taking care of him, supporting him - loving him. Now Dean was gone.

Dean's golden aura floated back into his body. The gate flared brightly sending a shock of electricity through the warrior's body. His body snapped upward. His heart pumped wildly for a second sending life coursing through his veins. A deep shuddering breath pulled air into hungry lungs.

He rose to consciousness slowly and prepared himself for the onslaught of pain. It was more like a numbing ache this time and the Warrior sighed in relief. 'Well that wasn't so bad,' he mumbled silently.

Sam felt the movement in his arms and tightened his grip. No one was going to take his brother from him again.

"**Dammit Sammy your choking me**," the hoarse voice whispered.

Sam didn't answer or release his hold. He was too deeply mired in grief. The young hunter stood on the edge of a cliff preparing to jump.

Dean ached in every part and parcel of his body, but the ache in his heart for his brother was the worst of all. His voice was raspy and he cleared it several times growling, "**Hey College Boy if you don't ease up the bear hug, I'm going to kick your butt. I might not be able to do it at this very moment in time, but it will happen**."

It was a dream, only a dream the young hunter thought. His mind was playing trick on him. Slowly, ever so slowly he lifted his head and opened his eyes to stare at the man held tightly in his arms.

"**Dean**," he whispered.

"**Well it ain't the damned Easter Bunny**," Dean growled.

Sam was speechless, could this be real, was Dean really laying there talking to him?

"**Hey sweet cheeks, I'm loving the chick flick moment here but your strangling me**."

He didn't ease his hold, he didn't respond and Dean was getting pissed. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and prepared to fire with both barrels. He only hoped his little brother was listening on all channels. "_Listen up Sammy, get your ass back here now, I need you_?"

Sam winced as the familiar voice boomed the command in his head. "_You don't need me Dean, you don't need anyone_," Sam whispered softly.

"_I don't need much Sammy, but I do need you,"_ he whispered.

Sam snorted, not sure what to believe.

"_Don't make me say it again_," Dean warned him.

Another voice, softer, almost as familiar whispered in Sam's head, '_Go home Sam, he needs you as much as you need him_.'

"_Vivian_," he whispered in awe. He found her floating a few feet away his eyes widening in surprise.

"_Do you like them_," Vivian whispered?

A huge smile crossed the hunters lips when she lifted the angel wings and fluttered them proudly, showing them off.

"_I love them_," the hunter laughed.

"_Now go home young man and take care of your brother_," she scolded.

"_Yes, Ma'am_," Sam answered grinning widely.

A slow smile crossing his face as he looked at the man he still held tightly in his arms. He sat up too quickly jostling his brother. "_I'm not dreaming_," he asked cautiously.

"Ouch Sammy that hurt," Dean grumbled. "_I'm gonna slap you Sammy and no you are not dreaming_," Dean muttered.

"Dad," Sam screeched, "Call an ambulance."

"Already done son, hang on they'll be here in a few minutes."

Gently Sam settled his brother more comfortably in his lap. Even now he was afraid to let him go, fearing it might have been a dream after all and Dean would slip away. He didn't mean to say it, he'd forgotten for a moment his brother was listening when the words spilled forth. "_I love you Dean_."

"_Sappy Sammy, really sappy_," Dean grumbled but he returned the sentiment in full force. "_I love you too Sam_."

"_Sammy_," the young Seer replied. He heard his brother's laughter and it filled his heart to overflowing.

Floating across the room Vivian stopped at Gabriel's side. A light touch on shoulder made him look up.

"_We don't have much time Seeker, you must hold the gate and call them through_."

Gabriel knew who she meant. The little glowing balls were waiting. Moving to stand close to the circle Dean and Sam in front of him Gabriel opened his arms and closed his eyes.

Beneath the hunters their symbol began to glow.

Yelling John jumped to his feet rushing toward Gabriel, "What are you doing."

It was Dean that stopped his father, "Dad no," With a wink at his brother Dean whispered, "Time to bring the riff-raff home Sammy."

The floor around them faded away revealing the dark abyss below them. Thousands of the tiny glowing balls waited.

Together the young hunters, Warrior and Seer entwined their minds and called them home. All around them the lost souls crossed over. Spinning and swirling around the hunters thousands of them came.

Across the room Vivian called them. Lost souls were set free. They circled the old woman as she spiraled into the air. Her newly acquired wings proudly displayed. All around the room the glowing ball bobbed in glee and followed as she led them toward home.

When the last of the souls came through, Seer, Warrior and Seeker closed the gate.

Gabriel fell to his knees. Through the hurt and exhausted he sighed in satisfaction.

Mick stood in the doorway his face glowing with satisfaction.

Sirens blared in the distance. Tired hunters heard the welcome sounds of help arriving.

It was over, the memories would remain but the terror they had faced was washed away. The pain and heartache would fade with time, wounds would heal. Two halves of the same whole were united once more.

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I hope you enjoyed this. I had fun writing it. Until the next time

Huggers


	18. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

John sat at the back window of the little house in Fremont watching his son's. Dean was recovering slowly but like Sam he seemed quieter. They had hardly talked about their time in 'hell' and he didn't want to ask and dredge up the memories. They had survived, barely, but he had them back and he was profoundly grateful.

He kept his emotions bottled up inside, he only hoped his son's knew how much he loved them and wanted with all his heart to protect them. He had failed in more ways than one. His obsession with finding the thing that had killed his wife had nearly gotten his son's killed many times. He couldn't stop, as much as he might want too.

Dean limped slowly across the grass. It had been a long two weeks. Checking himself out of the hospital had been the best thing he'd ever done. He'd had enough of hospital care and lousy food. Even if his dad and Sam weren't the greatest cooks in the world, it was better than hospital food. Bland and boring is how he would have described it if anyone had chosen to ask. He was craving a chili cheese dog smothered in onions.

He couldn't remember much of the first week, except for his brother and father being close by. His shoulder was still strapped up, dislocated rather than broken thankfully. Lacerated kidney, a nearly collapsed lung, broken ribs and deep cuts still kept him moving slowly.

Sam had been quiet, too quiet the last couple of weeks. Even now he sat on a rock with a spoon in his hand.

Sam stared off into the woods his fingers playing with the spoon. Every time he tried to bend it, or for that matter flatten it a hot flash of pain had erupted in his skull. He hadn't had a nightmare or vision since that day at the Fraternity House. He could still feel Dean in his head, but the rest… the rest was gone. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing and would it ever come back.

Dean had been too hurt to see his brothers pain at first, but it was plain as day something was bothering him. He was going to find out. Sitting down next to his brother he punched him hard in the shoulder.

"Owww," Sam grunted getting ready to fire back before remembering Dean's delicate condition. "What the hell did you do that for," he grumbled.

"That's what older brothers do when little brothers are stupid," he grinned impishly.

"Stupid, what the hell do you mean stupid," Sam rumbled dangerously?

"How the hell could you even for a second think that you had failed me," Dean scolded. The words had been floating through his mind since he'd woken up in the hospital. He wanted to know if he had dreamed them of if Sam really believed it.

Sam sighed but didn't say anything. He turned away unable to meet his brother's eyes.

So, that was it. Dean had him now. "Who would be stupid enough to jump into hell to save someone, even if it is your brother, you're insane," Dean rambled quietly.

Sam shot to his feet. "Fine next time I'll wave goodbye as your sorry ass gets dragged into the fire," the young hunter growled ominously.

Dean laughed, "Never happen, you couldn't stand the thought of me getting all the fame and glory. You are so jealous Sammy."

"Jealous of you," Sam snorted. "Dream on Pool Boy."

"Pool Boy, where the hell did you come with that," Dean chuckled.

Sam turned to his brother and grinned. "Saw it on a commercial, it fit you to perfection. I could just see you prancing around the pool in your speed-o. The perfect bit of eye candy, a little fluff for a hard working girl to enjoy during her leisure time."

"Fluff," Dean growled indignantly. "And I wouldn't be caught dead in a speed-o."

"Yeah, fluff," Sam replied mockingly.

"I am not fluff," Dean growled.

Sam stared at his brother raising one eyebrow in mock disbelief, "Gotcha," Sam grinned.

Dean's head snapped up to stare at his brother. For once he was speechless.

Seconds later both of them broke out into laughter. It was a few minutes before the laughter tapered off and they sat in companionable silence.

Dean sighed his words filled with sadness, his voice shaking with distress, "You didn't fail me Sammy, not then, not now, not ever and if I ever hear you say or think those words again I'm gonna kick your ass. You got it?"

Sam looked deep into his brother's eyes, his heart near to bursting, but the imp inside him just had to have the last word. 'Why not,' he told himself.

He nodded before say, "Yeah Fluffy, I got it." Sam leaped to his feet and was half way across the yard when he heard his brothers' quiet laughter in his head.

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**_Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Till the next one, maybe a week or so if I get off my dead ass onto my dying feet I'll get some more written._**


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